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Jt    I ievp    LJears    lliessage  to 
^JJoubt    riot,   drear    Tiot 

^S  1954  begins  its  year's  span,  the  general  board  expresses  gratitude  for 
the  righteousness  of  the  hves  of  Rehef  Society  members  during  the 
past  year,  and  for  their  accomphshments  not  only  in  things  of  material 
value,  but,  above  all,  in  the  things  of  the  spirit.  Through  study  and  faith 
and  works  encouraged  by  membership  in  the  divinely  inspired  Rehef  So- 
ciety, Relief  Society  women,  reading  the  signs  of  the  times,  are  prayerfully 
strengthening  their  testimonies  so  that  their  faith  will  sustain  them,  their 
hope  increase  and  blossom  into  a  charity  which  will  envelop  others  in 
need  of  its  healing.  Known  to  them  is  the  fulfillment  of  prophecy.  In 
their  hearts  is  a  longing  for  the  peace  of  the  millennium;  and  the  words 
of  Tennyson,  recently  studied  in  Relief  Society,  find  an  echoing  response: 

Ring  out  old  shapes  of  foul  disease; 
Ring  out  the  narrowing  lust  of  gold; 
Ring  out  the  thousand  wars  of  old; 
Ring  in  a  thousand  years  of  peace. 

Because  of  wickedness,  most  men  have  ceased  to  anticipate  the  mil- 
lennium. They  ascribe  to  modern  discoveries  of  nature's  secrets,  signs  of 
the  earth's  dissolution.  They  deny  the  Maker  of  the  worlds  and  his  pur- 
poses, and  the  mission  of  his  Son,  the  only  name  under  heaven  given 
among  men,  whereby  we  must  be  saved."  Though  ''heaven  and  earth  shall 
pass  away;  yet  my  words  shall  not  pass  away,  but  all  shall  be  fulfilled,"  the 
Lord  has  told  the  inhabitants  of  this  earth.  But  having  ears  they  hear 
not,  and  having  eyes  they  see  not. 

To  the  righteous  there  are  comfort  and  everlasting  joy  in  the  words 
of  the  Lord.  As  this  new  year  grows  old,  let  Relief  Society  members 
become  safe-folded  in  the  flock  of  the  Master,  for  he  has  promised:  'Tear 
not,  little  flock,  do  good;  let  earth  and  hell  combine  against  you,  for  if 
ye  are  built  upon  my  rock,  they  cannot  prevail  ....  Look  unto  me  in 
every  thought;  doubt  not,  fear  not." 

This  is  our  prayer  for  our  sisters  of  Relief  Society, 

Qjrora   I  tear  and  cfc 


I  am  deeply  impressed  with  the  amount 
of  labor  you  have  expended  with  the  Li- 
brary of  Congress  and  other  sources  to 
secure  the  pictures  and  information  on 
the  framers  of  the  Constitution  (October 
1953).  It  is  a  very  valuable  piece  of 
work  ....  I  doubt  that  few  schoolrooms 
have,  in  convenient  form,  these  pictures 
and  the  accompanying  thumbnail  sketches. 
— G.  Homer  Durham 

University  of  Utah 

Today  I  especially  want  to  thank  you 
for  the  Magazine,  and  for  the  article  "The 
Renovating  and  Dressing  of  Dolls"  (by 
Thelma  Standering,  November  1953). 
Recently  I  had  given  my  four-year-old 
daughter  a  doll  that  had  been  mine  when 
I  was  a  small  child.  Well,  she  left  it  out 
in  the  rain  last  night  and  the  doll  just 
looks  awful — the  whole  body  is  all  bumpy. 
Well,  after  reading  that  article,  I  have 
hopes  for  this  doll  and  two  others  that 
I  want  to  fix  up.  So,  instead  of  feeling 
like  crying,  I  feel  like  singing.  I'm  not 
artistic,  but  I  do  have  hopes. 

— June  W.  Robertson 
San  Mateo,  California 

I  know  that  thousands  of  sisters  must 
feel  about  our  wonderful  Magazine  as  I 
do.  What  care  and  good  taste  and  dis- 
crimination you  do  exercise  in  its  compila- 
tion. I  am  so  proud  to  let  my  friends 
and  sisters  know  how  important  it  is  to 
me.  Let  me  call  attention  to  page  752 
in  the  November  issue.  That  little  four- 
line  poem  by  Cynthia  A.  Scott  is  well 
worth  headline  publication  in  my  esti- 
mation. How  carefully  it  is  written  and 
how  true  the  message! 

— Clara  Home  Park 
San  Mateo,  California 

Roxana  Famsworth  Hase,  long-time  con- 
tributor to  The  Relief  Society  Magazine, 
has  recently  had  her  poems  collected  in  a 
delightful  anthology  Delicious  Lumps, 
published  by  Vantage  Press,  New  York 
City.  The  poems  are  entertaining  read- 
ing for  the  family  and  many  of  them  have 
been  used  in  plays,  programs,  and  pag- 

Page  2 

It  certainly  was  a  thrill  to  the  Box 
Elder  Chapter  of  the  American  Associa- 
tion of  Penwomen  to  have  three  of  their 
five  poets  appear  together  in  the  Novem- 
ber Relief  Society  Magazine  (Eleanor  W. 
Schow,  Maude  O.  Cook,  and  Renie  H. 
Littlewood)  ....  Of  course  the  poetry 
is  the  first  thing  we  look  for  in  the  Maga- 
zine, but,  as  most  of  us  are  Relief  Society 
members,  we  are  also  interested  in  other 
features  of  the  Magazine  and  enjoy  every 
bit  of  it. 

— Renie  H.  Littlewood 

Brigham  City,  Utah 

I  am  glad  you  editors  enjoyed  my  poem 
"Suds"  (November  1953).  I  tried  to 
think  of  the  most  unlovely  thing  to  me 
and  write  a  poem  about  it. 

— Ivy  Houtz  Woolley 

Ogden,  Utah 


Here's  something  we  all  love  so  well 
Our  Magazine,  dear  Magazine; 

The  help  it  gives  each  tongue  can  tell 
Our  Magazine,  dear  Magazine. 

Wherever  L.  D.  S.  are  known 
We  want  to  find  in  every  home 

A  sister  who  is  proud  to  own 
Our  Magazine,  dear  Magazine. 

— ^Annie  M.  Ellsworth,  President 
Central  States  Mission  Relief  Society 

(Verses  may  be  sung  to  the  tune  "MIA, 
Our  MIA") 

I  should  like  to  take  this  opportunity 
to  tell  you  how  much  I  enjoy  The  Reliei 
Society  Magazine,  especially  since  it  is  im- 
possible for  me  to  attend  Relief  Society 
meetings,  as  we  live  nearly  fifty  miles  from 
the  nearest  branch  of  the  Church.  The 
Magazine  keeps  me  in  touch  with  what 
the  sisters  are  doing,  and  when  we  are 
in  a  location  where  I  can  attend  the  meet- 
ings, I  am  sure  I  shall  feel  at  home.  I 
enjoy  all  the  stories  in  the  Magazine,  and 
the  articles  and  poetry  immensely. 
— Maurine  B.  Hansen 

Rocky  Boy  Agency 
Box  Elder,  Montana 


Monthly  Publication  of  the  Relief  Society  of  The  Church  of  Jesus   Christ  of  Latter-day   Saints 

Belle  S.  Spafford  ------  President 

Marianne  C.  Sharp  _____  First  Counselor 

Velma  N.  Simonsen  _  _  _  _  _      Second  Counselor 

Margaret  C.   Pickering     -  _  -  -  -  Secretary-Treasurer 

Mary  G.  Judd  Evon  W.  Peterson  Christine  H.  Robinson       Charlotte  A.  Larsen 

Anna  B.  Hart  Leone  O.  lacobs  Alberta  H.  Christensen      Edith  P.  Backman 

Edith  S.  Elhott  Mary  J.  Wilson  Nellie  W.  Neal  Winniefred  S. 

Florence  J.  Madsen  Louise  W.  Madsen  Mildred  B.  Eyring  Manwaring 

Leone  G.  Layton  Aleine  M.  Young  Helen  W.  Anderson  Elna  P.  Haymond 

Blanche  B.  Stoddard  Josie  B.  Bav  Gladys  S.  Boyer 


Editor    ---_-___---  Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Associate  Editor           _____._--  Vesta  P.  Crawford 

General  Manager       _________  Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  41  JANUARY  1954  NO.  1 



A  New  Year's  Message  to  "Doubt  Not,  Fear  Not"  _ 1 

Individual  Welfare  in  a  Time  of  Plenty  Carl  W.  Buehner    4 

Award  Winners  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest  10 

Wings  Over  the  West — First  Prize  Poem  „ Lizabeth  Wall  Madsen  11 

A  Stone  in  the  Wilderness — Second  Prize  Poem  Dorothy  J.  Roberts  12 

To  Shield  a  King— Third  Prize  Poem  _ Alice  Morrey  Bailey  13 

Biographical  Sketches  of  Award  Winners  in  the  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest  15 

Award  Winners — Annual  Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest - 16 

One  Wild  Rose — First  Prize  Story  Dorothy  Clapp  Robinson  17 

First  Ladies  of  Our  Land— Part  III  -• • Elsie  C.  Carroll  23 

Support  the  March  of  Dimes  Basil   O'Connor  31 

My  Calendar  „ Elsie  Sim  Hansen  41 

Winter  Is  for  Mothers  Lucille  Waters  Mattson  71 


New  Year's  Choice  Dorothy  Boys   Kilian  32 

Moon  Music  - Louise  Morris  Kelley  38 

The  Deeper  Melody— Chapter  4  Alice  Morrey  Bailey  42 


From  Near  and  Far  - - 2 

Sixty  Years  Ago  - 34 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.  Cannon  35 

Editorial:    A  Happier  Life  in  the  New  Year  Marianne  C.  Sharp  36 

Notes  to  the  Field:  Relief  Society  Assigned  Evening  Meeting  of  Fast  Sunday  in  March  37 

Bound  Volumes  of  1953  Relief  Society  Magazines  37 

Award  Subscriptions  Presented  in  April  „ _ _ 37 

Notes  From  the  Field:    Relief  Society  Activities  - Margaret  C.  Pickering  48 


Melvina  Bennett  Clark  Makes  Braided  Rugs  _ - 47 


Theology:    Righteousness  and  Good  Government  Leland  H.  Monson  54 

Visiting  Teacher  Messages:     "But  There  Is  a  Resurrection,   Therefore   the   Grave   Hath 

No  Victory"   _ Leone   O.   Jacobs  58 

Work  Meeting:    Spending  Your  Home  Furnishings  Dollar — Soft  Floor  Coverings  

_ _ _ _ _ Rhea    H.    Gardner  59 

Literature:    Robert  Browning  "Poet  of  Personality"  Briant  S.  Jacobs  61 

Social  Science:    The  Philadelphia  Convention  _ Albert  R.   Bowen  66 


Amateur  Gardener's  Reward  vv^,"^,^®t  Stuart  Hager  22 

Uttle  Girl  Before  the  Piano  - Mabel  Jones  Gabbott  33 

I  Would  Not  Have  You  Weep  ^^/\^^^®> M"^ tP?.   ^  ah 

Love's  Destiny  _ ---Ada  Mane  Patten  47 

Winter  Night  Beatrice   K.    Ekman  53 

Old  Year  Grace  Sayre  bO 

Swift  Sketch " 3"™"......... - — Thelma  J.   Lund  72 

Color  Notes  of  Daw""""" Elsie   McKinnon  Strachan  72 


Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah.  Phone  4-2511;  Sub- 
scriptions 246;  Editorial  Dept.  245.  Subscription  Price:  $1.50  a  year;  foreign,  $2.00  a  year; 
payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
back  numbers  can  be  supplied.  Renew  promptly  so  that  no  copies  will  be  missed.  Report  change 
of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Acceptance  for  mailing  at  special  rate  of  postage  provided  for  in 
section  1103,  Act  of  October  8,  1917,  authorized  June  29,  1918.  Manuscripts  will  not  be  returned 
unless  return  postage  is  enclosed.  Rejected  manuscripts  will  be  retained  for  six  months  only. 
The  Magazine  is  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 

Individual  Welfare  in  a 
Time  of  Plenty 

Bishop  Cad  W.  Buehnei 
Of  the  Presiding  Bishopric 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference, 

September  30,   1953] 

IT  is  a  most  inspiring  experience 
to  be  here  this  morning  with 
the  leaders  of  the  great  Rehef 
Society  organization  from  all  over 
the  Church.  If  my  arithmetic  is 
correct,  over  ninety-nine  per  cent 
of  all  the  stakes  are  represented 
here  this  morning,  and  I  think  I 
saw  one  sister  stand  up  who  is  here 
from  New  Zealand.  I  have  a  great 
love  for  New  Zealand  after  the  two 
weeks  I  spent  there.  This  is  mar- 
velous. I  have  learned  to  love  your 
Relief  Society  presidency  more  than 
I  will  ever  be  able  to  tell  you.  They 
are  great  leaders,  very  inspiring  lead- 
ers, and  I  am  sure  that  the  affairs 
of  the  Relief  Society  are  in  wonder- 
ful hands. 

If  I  am  a  little  nervous  this 
morning,  it  is  because  I  am  not 
accustomed  to  speaking  to  such  a 
large  conference  of  women.  You 
look  like  a  beautiful  flower  gar- 
den. I  feel  like  the  counselor 
recently  conducting  a  quarterly 
conference.  The  stake  president,  we 
learned,  was  in  the  hospital  with  a 
very  serious  operation,  and  the 
counselor  was  a  little  nervous,  too. 
During  the  course  of  the  meeting 
he  said,  ''Our  choir  will  now  sing 
'Let  the  Mountains  Shake  for  Joy.'  " 
You  understand  what  I  mean. 

It  was  wonderful  to  hear  Sister 
Spafford's  report  of  the  accomplish- 
ments of  this  great  organization— 
to  witness  the  roll  call  this  morn- 
ing. It  is  tremendously  interesting 
Page  4 

to  sit  on  the  stand,  and  observe  sis- 
ters standing  up  in  large  groups, 
representing  the  stakes  from  all  over 
the  Church.  I  enjoyed  the  wonder- 
ful report  of  Sister  Wright,  Sister 
Stoddard's  very  excellent  talk,  and 
the  beautiful  music.  It  is  just  a 
real  thrill  to  be  with  you  in  con- 
ference this  morning. 

I  have  been  assigned  a  welfare 
subject  to  discuss  with  you.  This 
may  bring  you  out  of  the  clouds 
and  back  down  to  earth,  but  I  know 
of  no  subject  more  interesting  to 
all  of  us  than  our  security.  I  have 
a  great  love  for  the  Welfare  Pro- 
gram, and  have  heard  some  out- 
standing testimonies  of  its  applica- 
tion to  members  of  the  Church.  I 
am  sold  on  it  all  the  way.  Inside 
the  covers  of  the  little  blue  Wel- 
fare handbook,  we  have,  in  my 
opinion,  the  greatest  security  pro- 
gram that  man  has  ever  seen.  It 
should  be  so,  for  it  is  the  Lord's 
program  of  taking  care  of  his  chil- 
dren. I  sincerely  hope  we  appreci- 
ate it  and  do  something  about  it. 

The  subject  I  am  to  discuss  this 
morning  is  "Individual  Welfare  in 
a  Time  of  Plenty."  This  indicates 
we  may  not  have  taken  advantage 
of  the  good  years  we  have  enjoyed 
to  prepare  ourselves  for  the  time  of 
need.  I  would  like  to  make  one  or 
two  observations  relative  to  the 
program  that  may  present  a  little 
different  approach  from  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  has  been  presented 


to  US  in  the  past.  That  which  will 
be  discussed,  I  am  sure,  will  not 
reveal  anything  new,  but  I  trust  will 
be  helpful  in  seeing  our  problem. 

'^UMBER  one  is  that  Hterally  we 
are  all  welfare  cases.    I  assume 
we  have  not  thought  of  the  prob- 
lem in  this  way,  but  most  of  our 
time,  our  energy,  and  our  money 
is  spent  to  take  care  of  the  physical 
comforts  of  the  body.     This  does 
not  infer  that  we  must  ask  anyone 
for  assistance,  but  certainly,  all  we 
work  for,  and  the  result  of  our  la- 
bor are  largely  required  to  take  care 
of  our  physical  comforts.     I  have 
often  thought  of  the  many  things 
we  could  do  with  the  money  we 
could  have  were  it  not  all  required 
for    this    purpose.    Think    of    our 
physical  condition  for  a  moment. 
If  we  are  sick,  we  want  to  get  well. 
If  we  are  hungry,  we  want  to  eat. 
When  we  get  too  warm,  we  want 
to  get  cool.    When  we  are  too  cold, 
we  want  to  get  warm.    Besides  this, 
we  need  clothing,  shelter,  and  the 
many  other  comforts  our  body  re- 
quires.    This  is  what  commands  a 
great  deal  of  our  effort,  our  energy, 
our  time,  and  our  finances. 

The  second  observation  I  should 
like  to  make  is  that  there  is  little 
difference  between  those  of  us  who 
seem  to  have  all  we  need  and  those 
in  need  of  assistance.  So  many 
things  can  happen  so  swiftly  to 
change  our  situation  from  one  of 
comparative  comfort  to  one  of  dis- 
tress. I  am  thinking  of  drouth, 
frost,  floods,  famine,  fires,  strikes, 
illness,  and  other  circumstances 
that  come  quickly  to  cause  us  dis- 
tress, and  prevent  us  from  earning 
our  normal  livelihood.  As  an  ex- 
ample, just  recently  I  was  in  a  stake 
where    the   major    income   in    the 

community  is  derived  from  the  pro- 
duction of  fruit.    While  there,  we 
inspected  the  bishop's  storehouse, 
and  discovered  no  fruit  for  distribu- 
tion.   This  was  in  the  peak  of  the 
fruit  season,  and  some  people  were 
complaining  because  of  the  absence 
of  fruit  in  the  storehouse.  After  a 
little  investigation,  we  said,  'Took 
at  all  the  orchards  here  and  the  im- 
mense production  of  fruit  in  this 
area.     Certainly  this  is  one  thing 
the  storehouse  ought  to  be  filled 
with."  "Ah,"  but  they  said,  "we  had 
a  very  severe  frost  this  spring,  and 
we  have  little  or  no  fruit  in  our  en- 
tire area."    This  has  caused  a  hard- 
ship on  this  community,  and  many 
individuals  depending  on  their  fruit 
crop  for  their  income  and  to  make 
payments  on  their  farms  will  be  in 
difficulty  this   year.     Besides   this, 
many  will  not  have  fruit  in  their 
cellars    or    canned    fruit    on    their 
shelves  because  of  the  loss  of  the 
fruit  crop.     It  might  even  be  pos- 
sible that  some  might  have  property 
in  jeopardy  because  of  the  loss  of 
income  through  this  severe  frost. 

In  some  other  areas,  crops  have 
dried  up  for  lack  of  moisture.  The 
land  has  been  unable  to  produce 
because  water  has  been  so  scarce. 
Then  we  have  the  extreme  where 
there  is  too  much  water,  where 
floods  have  raised  havoc  with  farms 
and  homes.  It  is  not  an  uncommon 
thing  to  pick  up  a  newspaper  and 
to  see  where  the  ravage  of  fire  has 
destroyed  the  possessions  of  a  fam- 
ily or  a  group  of  families.  Usually 
you  see  members  of  the  family 
standing  at  the  side  of  the  ruins, 
and  read  that  everything  they  pos- 
sessed has  been  destroyed.  In  many 
of  these  cases,  some  agency  of  the 
Welfare  Program  has  come  to  their 
rescue  to  assist  them  in  getting  back 


on  their  feet.  This  might  be  the 
Priesthood  quorum,  a  ward  organ- 
ization, or  friends  or  relatives  of  the 
family.  We  cannot  hide  the  fact 
that  the  desire  of  all  of  us  is  secur- 
ity, and  so  we  want  to  be  healthy, 
we  want  to  be  employed,  and  we 
should  like  to  be  able  to  take  care 
of  ourselves  and  our  families.  It, 
therefore,  becomes  a  very  important 
part  of  the  Welfare  Program  to  fol- 
low the  counsel  of  the  leaders  of 
the  Church,  and  to  prepare  in  a 
time  of  plenty  for  a  time  of  need 
which  may  overtake  us  sooner  than 
we  had  planned.  To  do  this  insures 
us  of  a  carry-over  in  any  critical  pe- 
riod that  might  confront  us. 

COME  of  us  heard  the  President 
of  the  Church  a  few  days  ago 
say  that  we  are  living  in  the  most 
critical  period  in  the  history  of  the 
world.  This  being  true,  we  had  bet- 
ter take  stock  of  ourselves,  our  re- 
sources, and  check  the  year's  supply 
we  have  been  asked  to  acquire,  and 
see  if  we  are  prepared  should  trag- 
edy strike.  Certainly,  as  we  are  con- 
fronted by  these  critical  times,  we 
should  listen  to  the  voice  of  warn- 
ing that  has  come  from  our  proph- 
et, and  prepare  ourselves  against 
any  emergency  that  might  arise.  We 
are  blessed  above  all  other  people 
in  that  we  have  a  prophet  to  point 
the  way  before  us. 

Some  time  ago  I  had  the  experi- 
ence of  presiding  over  the  Salt  Lake 
Region,  known  to  most  of  us  as 
Welfare  Square  in  Salt  Lake  City. 
We  had  many  experiences  which 
indicated  the  need  for  preparation. 
I  recall  a  strike  being  called  in  one 
of  the  large  industries  west  of  Salt 
Lake  City,  which  placed  6,000  men 
out  of  employment.  The  strike  con- 
tinued for  a  period  of  six  months. 

and  during  its  course,  it  became 
necessary  for  our  region  to  take  care 
of  thousands  of  families  whose  in- 
come had  been  stopped  as  a  result 
of  this  strike.  Had  these  families 
listened  to  the  counsel  given 
through  the  Welfare  Program,  they 
would  have  been  able  to  provide 
for  themselves  during  this  emergen- 
cy, but  like  most  of  us,  there  is  a 
general  feeling  that  when  times  are 
good  there  is  no  need  to  prepare 
for  a  day  in  the  future.  I  am  sure 
many  of  those  caught  in  this  situa- 
tion have  come  to  realize  the  im- 
portance of  following  the  instruc- 
tions of  the  Welfare  Program.  Pres- 
ently, some  people  in  other  indus- 
tries are  having  some  difficulty.  The 
livestock  industry  has  had  some  de- 
cline in  prices.  I  am  acquainted 
with  a  man  who  a  short  time  ago 
was  worth  at  least  half  a  million 
dollars,  and  who  in  the  last  thirty 
days  has  lost  all,  even  his  own 
home.  There  are  many  others  in 

I  have  observed  that  many  prob- 
lems are  coming  to  the  attention 
of  the  General  Welfare  Committee, 
problems  concerning  the  saving  of 
the  business  of  some  brother.  It 
is  not  the  purpose  of  the  Welfare 
Program  to  rescue  men  who  are 
failing  in  business,  but  to  see  that 
those  who  are  in  distress  are  sup- 
plied with  food,  clothing,  shelter, 
and  the  everyday  necessities  of  life. 
So,  we  emphasize  again  the  import- 
ance of  listening  to  the  counsel  of 
our  leaders,  that  we  provide  as  far 
as  possible  enough  of  the  necessi- 
ties of  life  to  provide  for  ourselves 
in  an  emergency. 

npHE    question    is    often    asked, 

"What  shall  we  store?"  Because 

of  our  scattered  situation,  and  the 


varied  climate  that  we  represent,  it 
is  difficult  to  indicate  item  by  item 
what  should  be  stored;  but  here 
are  some  suggestions  that  might  be 
helpful  to  all  of  us.  Think  back 
to  the  days  of  rationing  during 
World  War  11.  What  were  the 
difficult  items  to  secure  on  your  ra- 
tion cards?  I  remember  shoes  were 
difficult  to  obtain.  Soap  was  a  very 
difficult  item.  Persons  receiving 
welfare  assistance  had  more  soap 
than  those  not  on  the  Welfare  Pro- 
gram because  we  had  a  soap  factory, 
and  were  producing  soap  for  our 
own  storehouses.  Sugar  was  a  very 
scarce  item,  and  that  is  easy  to 
store.  Fats  are  always  very  diffi- 
cult to  get  in  time  of  emergency. 
Meat  was  in  very  short  supply.  It 
may  be  well  to  get  a  few  cans  of 
meat  or  fish,  and  it  might  be  pos- 
sible for  you  to  can  some  of  your 
own  that  you  might  have  some  in 
reserve.  Some  items  of  clothing 
were  very  difficult  to  obtain.  Styles 
may  change,  but  we  can  always  ac- 
quire some  cloth,  and  have  it  in  our 
homes  from  which  to  make  items  of 
clothing  necessary  to  keep  the  fam- 
ily warm.  Paper  products  were 
very  scarce,  and  many  other  items, 
such  as  bread.  One  of  the  easiest 
commodities  to  store  and  one  which 
has  the  greatest  value  for  all  of  us, 
"Wheat  for  Man,"  the  Word  of 
Wisdom  says.  Through  the  coun- 
sel of  your  county  agricultural 
agents,  you  can  secure  the  right  type 
of  wheat,  place  it  in  a  tight  con- 
tainer, and  keep  it  for  a  long  period 
of  time.  I  am  also  thinking  of  re- 
pairs and  maintenance  to  your 
home.  Do  you  remember  how 
many  items  were  almost  impossible 
to  secure  during  the  period  of  the 
war,    such    as    plumbing    fittings, 

valves,  and  items  with  which  to  fix 
leaky  pipes?  It  was  difficult  even  to 
secure  nails  to  repair  a  roof  and  a 
part  of  the  barn.  All  metal  items 
were  very  critical.  I  think  I  would 
keep  my  home  in  good  repair. 

You  women  exercise  a  great  in- 
fluence on  your  husbands.  I  have 
learned  long  ago  that  if  we  want  a 
good  work  done  in  the  Welfare 
Program,  the  assistance  of  women 
usually  spells  success  for  the  pro- 
gram. Talking  these  problems  over 
with  your  husbands  usually  will 
bring  results  and  avoid  serious  dif- 

If  members  of  a  ward  become  en- 
thusiastic about  the  possibilities  of 
providing  against  a  rainy  day,  it  can 
become  very  contagious,  and  oth- 
ers, through  example,  will  desire  to 
do  the  same  thing. 

I  recall  buying  thirty  cans  of 
wheat  in  1944,  and  placing  them  in 
my  garage.  My  neighbor,  a  high 
councilman  who  lived  across  the 
street,  came  over  daily  to  look  at  my 
stock  of  wheat.  He  eventually  al- 
most made  my  life  miserable  be- 
cause he  wanted  to  acquire  part  of 
my  wheat  storage  supply.  In  order 
to  have  peace,  I  finally  sold  him 
part  of  my  wheat.  Even  though  I 
am  engaged  in  the  wheat  business, 
and  we  have  thousands  of  bushels 
of  grain  in  our  elevators  all  the 
time,  I  still  feel  very  secure  to  have 
wheat  of  my  own  in  my  own  cans 
at  my  own  home.  I  look  at  it  once 
in  a  while,  and  from  all  appear- 
ances, it  is  just  as  good  as  when  I 
bought  it  in  1944.  So  I  say  again, 
wheat  can  be  kept  for  a  long  time. 

I  recently  attended  a  quarterly 
conference  with  Brother  Walter 
Stover,  who  you  remember  was  the 
president  of  the  East  German  Mis- 


sion  during  very  difficult  times  fol- 
lowing the  war.  We  sent  large 
quantities  of  welfare  commodities 
to  him,  and  he  indicated  the  great 
blessing  that  came  to  those  people 
through  this  help  from  the  Welfare 
at  the  headquarters  of  the  Church. 
He  was  particularly  overjoyed  at  the 
wheat  that  was  sent.  He  discovered 
how  these  people  ground  it,  how 
they  cooked  it  for  cereal,  and  baked 
it  for  bread.  He  indicated  they 
could  eat  it  in  the  morning,  they 
could  eat  it  for  dinner,  and  they 
could  eat  it  in  the  evening  because 
it  had  the  elements  to  sustain  life. 
He  suggested  that  you  would  be 
surprised  what  wonderful  hamburg- 
ers you  can  make  from  ground 
wheat  and  what  a  substantial  item 
wheat  is,  around  which  you  can  pro- 
vide a  nourishing  food  diet. 

OESIDES  the  items  mentioned, 
we  can  always  have  fruit  and 
vegetables.  Wherever  possible,  we 
should  have  a  garden.  Let's  plant 
and  produce  that  which  we  can, 
and  then  let's  conserve  the  surplus. 
Continuing  his  talk  in  this  same 
conference,  Brother  Stover  said, 
''We  have  a  lovely  garden  in  our 
back  yard.  My  wife  does  all  the 
gardening.  She  raises  the  entire 
crop,  and  because  it  cannot  all  be 
consumed  at  the  time  it  is  ready, 
she  urged  me  to  build  a  little  root 
cellar.  I  said  to  her,  'Mama,  we 
don't  need  a  root  cellar  for  just  you 
and  me— we  don't  eat  that  much,' 
but  my  wife  is  very  conservative. 
She  just  won't  waste  anything.  If 
she  cooks  a  little  stew  for  dinner, 
we  have  stew  every  meal  until  that 
stew  is  eaten  up.  She  won't  waste 
any  good  food,  and  neither  did  she 
wish  to  waste  any  of  the  vegetables 
in    this    garden.     I    protested    the 

building  of  a  root  cellar,  but  one 
night  when  I  came  home,  lo  and 
behold,  right  in  the  middle  of  my 
garden  she  had  dug  a  large  hole. 
She  secured  a  few  boards,  and  im- 
provised a  roof  over  this  opening, 
and  about  that  time  I  decided  I  had 
better  wake  up  to  what  was  going 
on,  so  I  got  Mama  some  bricks  to 
line  the  root  cellar,  and  I  helped  her 
finish  the  job.  I  feel  much  more 
secure  with  a  root  cellar  full  of  fine 
vegetables  than  I  did  to  have  them 
on  top  of  the  ground  where  some 
of  them  might  be  frozen,  some 
might  decay,  and  where  we  certain- 
ly would  lose  the  value  we  had  from 
raising  this  garden." 

I  should  like  to  read  you  a  few 
excerpts  from  a  talk  given  by  Presi- 
dent J.  Reuben  Clark,  Jr.,  in  April 
1937.  As  I  have  read  this  talk,  and 
realized  the  condition  in  which  we 
find  ourselves,  I  have  thought  many 
times  how  true  the  scripture  is  that 
says,  "We  have  ears,  but  we  hear 
not."  We  have  enjoyed  the  train- 
ing of  this  program  for  a  long  time. 
President  Clark  was  referring  to  the 
difficult  situation  confronting  us  in 
the  United  States.  This  is  what  he 
had  to  say: 

What  may  we  as  a  people  and  as  in- 
dividuals do  for  ourselves  to  prepare  to 
meet  this  oncoming  disaster,  which  God 
in  his  wisdom  may  not  turn  aside  from 

First,  and  above  and  beyond  everything 
else,  let  us  live  righteously,  fearing  God 
and  keeping  His  commandments,  that  we 
may  in  part  claim  His  blessings  as  of 
right,  and  not  as  of  mercy  only.  Along 
this  way  only  lies  happiness  and  salvation. 
For  the  Lord  has  said:  "Wherefore,  fear 
not  even  unto  death;  for  in  this  world 
your  joy  is  not  full  .  .  .  Therefore  care 
not  for  the  body,  neither  the  life  of  the 
body;  but  care  for  the  soul,  and  for  the 
life  of  the  soul. 

"And  seek  the  face  of  the  Lord  always, 
that  in  patience  ye  may  possess  your  souls, 


and  ye  shall  have  eternal  life"    (Doc.   & 
Gov.   101:36-38). 

Let  us  avoid  debt  as  we  would  avoid 
a  plague;  where  we  are  now  in  debt  let 
us  get  out  of  debt;  if  not  today,  then  to- 

Let  us  straitly  and  strictly  liv£  within 
our  incomes,  and  save  a  little. 

Let  every  head  of  every  household  see 
to  it  that  he  has  on  hand  enough  food 
and  clothing  and,  where  possible,  fuel  al- 
so, for  at  least  a  year  ahead.  You  of  small 
means  put  your  money  in  foodstuffs  and 
wearing  apparel,  not  in  stocks  and  bonds; 
you  of  large  means  will  think  you  know 
how  to  care  for  yourselves,  but  I  may 
venture  to  suggest  that  you  do  not  specu- 
late. Let  every  head  of  every  household 
aim  to  own  his  own  home,  free  from 
mortgage.  Let  every  man  who  has  a 
garden  spot,  garden  it;  every  man  who 
owns  a  farm,  farm  it. 

Let  us  again  clothe  ourselves  with  these 
proved  and  sterling  virtues — honesty, 
truthfulness,  chastity,  sobriety,  temper- 
ance, industry  and  thrift;  let  us  discard 
all  covetousness  and  greed. 

TpHE  past  ten  or  twelve  years  have 
been  very  fruitful  years.  I  guess 
we  have  lived  on  borrowed  money, 
but  we  have  all  had  some  of  that 
money.    I  don't  know  how  we  are 
going   to   pay  it  back,   but   when 
that  day  comes,  it  is  not  going  to 
be  so  easy  to  have  the  things  we 
have  enjoyed  during  this  period  of 
prosperity.    I  remember  so  well  the 
story  of  Joseph.    There  is  not  time 
to  relate  it  in  full.    You  read  it  in 
Genesis.    You  remember  how  that 
great  leader  was  sent  by  the  Pharaoh 
into  Egypt  during  the  seven  good 
years   to   fill  granaries  with   grain, 
and  then  you  remember  the  story 
of  the  lean  years,  and  how  the  east 
wind  blew  and  dried  up  the  coun- 
try.   As  you  read  the  story,  you  can 
just  feel  the  wind  drying  up  the 
parched  earth  and  consuming  every- 
thing on  it.    It  was  the  preparation 
in  the  seven  good  years  that  kept 

the  people  from  starvation  in  the 
seven  lean  years  that  followed. 

Now  I  hope  since  we  have  a 
prophet  at  our  head  who  has  told 
us,  instructed  us,  encouraged  us, 
and  advised  us  how  to  avoid  any 
calamity  of  that  kind,  that  we  will 
listen  to  him,  that  we  will  prepare 
ourselves,  not  with  luxuries,  not 
with  items  that  are  going  to  spoil 
because  we  have  an  over-abundance 
of  them,  but  with  those  necessities 
that  will  bring  us  over  an  emer- 
gency that  might  overcome  us.  If 
we  do  those  things,  the  Latter-day 
Saints  will  have  a  program  that  will 
prove  a  great  blessing  and  a  pro- 
gram the  like  of  which  the  rest  of 
the  world  would  like  very  much  to 
know  about  and  to  have.  Since  it 
is  ours  and  belongs  to  the  Lord's 
people,  I  hope  we  will  appreciate 
it  and  do  all  we  can  to  prepare  our- 
selves with  the  necessities  that  will 
assist  us  in  any  period  of  emergency 
that  might  arise.  We  can  then  also 
be  a  blessing  and  help  to  those  who 
have  not  listened  to  the  voice  of 
our  leaders. 

I  bear  you  my  testimony  that  I 
love  this  great  Welfare  Program 
with  all  my  heart.  I  have  heard 
many  testimonies  of  how  it  has 
come  to  the  rescue  of  the  people, 
the  great  blessing  it  has  been  to 
them.  I  promise  you  that  in  the 
future  there  will  even  be  greater 
blessings,  if  we  live  closer  to  the  in- 
structions that  have  come  to  us  to 
prepare  ourselves. 

May  the  Lord  help  us  to  ap- 
preciate these  great  things  and  the 
other  great  programs  in  the  Church 
for  our  benefit  and  our  blessing, 
and  may  this  great  Relief  Society 
organization  prosper  and  grow,  I 
humbly  pray  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ.    Amen. 

.yiward    vi/inners 

ibliza  ui.  0/20W  [Poem   (contest 

npHE  Relief  Society  general  board 
is  pleased  to  announce  the 
names  of  the  three  prize  winners  in 
the  1953  Ehza  R.  Snow  Poem  Con- 
test. This  contest  was  announced 
in  the  June  1953  issue  of  the  Maga- 
zine,   and    closed    September    15, 


The  first  prize  of  twenty-five  dol- 
lars is  awarded  to  Lizabeth  Wall 
Madsen,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  for 
her  poem  ''Wings  Over  the  West." 
The  second  prize  of  twenty  dollars 
is  awarded  to  Dorothy  J.  Roberts, 
Salt  Lake  City,  for  her  poem  ''A 
Stone  in  the  Wilderness."  The 
third  prize  of  fifteen  dollars  is 
awarded  to  Alice  Morrey  Bailey, 
Salt  Lake  City,  for  her  poem  'To 
Shield  a  King." 

This  poem  contest  has  been  con- 
ducted annually  by  the  Relief  So- 
ciety general  board  since  1924,  in 
honor  of  Eliza  R.  Snow,  second 
general  president  of  Relief  Society, 
a  gifted  poet  and  beloved  leader. 

The  contest  is  open  to  all  Latter- 
day  Saint  women,  and  is  designed  to 
encourage  poetry  writing,  and  to  in- 
crease appreciation  for  creative 
writing  and  the  beauty  and  value  of 

Prize-winning  poems  are  the  prop- 
erty of  the  Relief  Society  general 
board,  and  may  not  be  used  for 
publication  by  others  except  upon 
written  permission  of  the  general 
board.  The  general  board  also  re- 
serves the  right  to  publish  any  of 
the  poems  submitted,  paying  for 
them  at  the  time  of  publication  at 

Page  10 

the  regular  Magazine  rate.  A  writer 
who  has  received  the  first  prize  for 
two  consecutive  years  must  wait  two 
years  before  she  is  again  eligible  to 
enter  the  contest. 

There  were  one  hundred  ten 
poems  submitted  in  this  year's  con- 
test. Many  of  the  poems  revealed 
careful  technique  and  lovely  imag- 
ery, as  well  as  profound  thought  de- 

Twenty-two  states  were  represent- 
ed in  the  contest  entries,  the  larg- 
est number  of  entries  came  in  or- 
der from  Utah,  California,  Idaho, 
Kansas,  Oklahoma,  Wyoming,  and 
Arizona.  Three  entries  came  from 
England,  one  from  Scotland,  and 
one  from  Argentina. 

The  winner  of  the  first  prize  this 
year,  Mrs.  Lizabeth  Wall  Madsen, 
was  awarded  second  prize  in  the 
Ehza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest  in 
1946.  Mrs.  Roberts  and  Mrs. 
Bailey  have  won  prizes  in  several 
previous  contests. 

The  general  board  congratulates 
the  prize  winners  and  expresses  ap- 
preciation to  all  entrants  for  their 
interest  in  the  contest.  The  gen- 
eral board  wishes,  also,  to  thank  the 
judges  for  their  care  and  diligence 
in  selecting  the  prize-winning 
poems.  The  services  of  the  poetry 
committee  of  the  general  board  are 
very  much  appreciated. 

The  prize-winning  poems,  togeth- 
er with  photographs  and  biograph- 
ical sketches  of  the  prize-winning 
contestants,  are  published  herewith. 

irrize-  Vi/inrnnq  LPoems 

(biiza  Uioxeu  Snow    /Jiemorml  iPoem    Contest 



First  Prize  Poem 

Vi/ings  Gyve/*  the   V(/est 

Lizabeth  Wall  Madsen 

The  wheeling  arcs  of  gulls  have  etched  the  storm 
With  slender,  silver  patterns  of  their  flying. 
Curved  to  the  wind  and  strangers  to  the  warm 
Far  earth,  they  seek  a  new  horizon,  crying. 
Theirs  is  a  spiraled  search,  and  there  is  more 
To  weld  them  to  the  clouds  than  fragile  feather; 
Other  than  bone  and  sinew  lets  them  soar. 
Freed  to  the  free  sky  and  its  ragged  weather. 
Beyond  the  windless  acre  where  I  stand. 
Shuttered  from  rain  in  one  protected  hollow. 
They  are  but  little  space  above  the  land. 
From  chrysalis  to  flight  where  I  might  follow. 
How  loosely  tethered  to  the  world  am  I 
When  gulls  are  calling  from  a  storm-wild  sky! 

Page  1 1 


Second  Prize  Poem 

Jt   Stone  in  the    vi/ilaerness 
Dorothy  J.  Roheits 

Not  toward  your  perfections  my  still  steps  yearn 

Nor  after  lofty-browed  nobilities 

And  altars  where  I  watched  your  fat  rams  burn; 

Not  to  these  am  I  tender,  not  to  these, 

Nor  to  the  swinging  crane  of  your  mind's  power, 

But  toward  the  small  and  wan  perversities 

Of  personality,  the  weeds  in  flower; 

Toward  fractured  bones  of  strength  a  near  one  sees, 

Fallen-sparrow  failures  mated  to  my  own; 

To  the  deviations  setting  you  apart, 

The  frailties  which  were  not  yours  alone, 

But  were  parroted  upon  my  secret  heart. 

A  thousand  wounds  my  tongue's  blade  would  atone 

Gould  it  smite  with  the  staff  of  honesty 

And  release  the  crystal  waters  from  the  stone 

Of  pride  and  let  you  drink  their  truth  with  me. 

Poge  12 

Third  Prize  Poem 

c/o  Smeia  a   Jxing 

Alice  Morrey  Bailey 

He  held  you  in  the  secret  of  his  heart, 
Oh,  httle  Bethlehem,  oh,  House  of  Bread, 
And  with  his  hugging  hills  set  you  apart, 
And  poured  his  shining  promise  on  your  head. 
Here  Ruth  and  Boaz  found  love's  steady  rock. 
Here  Rachel's  tomb  was  washed  with  Jacob's  tears; 
Here  clear-eyed  David  watched  his  trusting  flock 
And  sent  his  sweet  songs  winging  down  the  years. 

Though  small  among  earth's  cities,  short  of  street- 
Where  shepherds  followed  out  their  lowly  ways. 
And  gleaners  reaped  the  barren  fields  of  wheat 
With  humble  faith  and  peace  along  their  days- 
Obedient  to  his  laws,  you  were  the  one 
He  chose  to  be  the  cradle  of  his  Son. 

Page  13 


He  watched  them  on  the  roads  and  led  them  thence 
From  Nazareth,  past  Herod's  well,  by  Nain; 
He  saw  the  faithful  Joseph  growing  tense 
With  fear  for  Mary,  seeking  rest  in  vain 
Within  your  bulging  walls,  his  earnest  face 
Reflecting  hght  from  door  to  hopeless  door. 
Until,  at  last,  he  found  the  sheltered  place. 
And  rest  for  Mary  on  a  stable  floor. 

He  hid  them  from  the  wicked  in  your  crowd. 
And  ears  that  might  have  heard  a  newborn  cry 
Were  deaf  with  sound,  the  tinkling  coins  too  loud 
For  some  to  hear  hosannahs  in  the  sky. 
He  saw  the  shepherds  quake;  he  saw  afar 
The  wise  men  searching  out  the  moving  star. 

He  holds  you  yet,  oh,  little,  blessed  town. 
Although  that  night,  and  many  years,  are  gone 
While  aliens  thread  your  hills  of  camel  brown. 
To  changing  captors  you  have  been  a  pawn. 
Unsought,  uncherished,  and  unchanged  as  then. 
Untouched  by  gold  within  the  fertile  ring 
Of  commerce,  simple  in  your  ways,  as  when 
He  needed  you  to  shield  a  newborn  King. 

A  million  cities,  proud  and  rich  and  great. 
Give  homage  to  your  memory  tonight, 
And  what  was  whispered  once  along  your  street 
Is  sung  from  housetops,  blazed  in  rainbow  light. 
Though  conquered  many  times,  yours  yet  shall  be 
The  final  conquest  and  the  victory! 

\Biographical  Sketches  of  M.^>:>ard  Winners 
in  the  ibliza  [R.  Snoss?  iPoem    Contest 

Lizabeth  Wall  Madsen,  who  was  born  in  Mt.  Pleasant,  Utah,  and  lived  there  until 
1941,  has  contributed  many  poems  to  The  Relief  Society  Magazine.  Her  poem  ''I  Shall 
Be  Late"  was  awarded  second  prize  in  the  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest  in  1946. 
She  devotes  most  of  her  time  to  being  a  secretary  in  Salt  Lake  City,  and  being  both 
mother  and  father  to  a  teen-age  daughter,  Diane.  Whatever  few  moments  are  left 
are  used  in  writing,  mostly  poetry.  Mrs.  Madsen's  poems  have  appeared  in  Ladies 
Home  Journal,  Pictorial  Review,  the  Improvement  Era,  and  many  other  publications. 
She  has  won  both  the  Christmas  story  and  poem  contests  annually  sponsored  by  The 
Deseret  News.  She  is  also  represented  in  the  new  volume  of  Utah  Sings  and  other 
anthologies.  A  member  of  the  Art  Barn  Poets,  she  is  a  serious  student  of  poetry  and 
poetry  writing;  her  work  is  characterized  by  excellent  technique,  as  well  as  thoughtful 
content,  reflecting  a  keen  observation  of  nature  and  a  deep  understanding  of  emotions 
and  ideals,  which  she  presents  with  a  discriminating  choice  of  words  set  in  the  ca- 
dences of  music. 

^    'it    V 

Dorothy  Jensen  Roberts,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  is  well  known  to  the  readers  of 
the  Magazine  who  have  enjoyed  her  lovely  poems,  many  of  them  frontispieces,  since 
1941.  In  describing  her  interests,  Mrs.  Roberts  writes:  "I  was  born  in  Sweet,  Idaho,  and 
spent  a  few  years  in  the  rich  fruit  country  around  Boise.  Later,  I  had  a  few  years  in 
the  town  of  Ephraim,  Utah,  and  a  storybook  adolescence  and  youth  in  Cottonwood 
and  Holladay.  I  attended  the  University  of  Utah  for  three  years  and  have  taken  ex- 
tension courses  and  special  classes  in  hterature.  For  three  years  I  was  a  schoolteacher. 
I  have  been  active  in  all  the  auxiliaries  of  the  Church,  and  have  especially  enjoyed  my 
work  in  Relief  Society.  I  have  two  daughters,  two  precious  grandchildren,  and  a  fine 
husband.  As  hobbies,  my  strongest  affinity  is  poetry,  and  next,  playing  the  violin, 
with  art  and  sewing  following.  Tv/ice  before  I  have  been  awarded  a  prize  in  the 
Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest,  as  well  as  many  other  awards  and  prizes.  My  poetry 
and  prose  have  appeared  in  the  Church  publications  and  other  newspapers  and  maga- 
zines. I  am  a  member  of  the  Utah  Sonneteers,  Utah  Poetry  Society,  and  the  League 
of  Utah  Writers." 

^    'J*    ^ 

Alice  Morrey  Bailey,  musician,  composer,  sculptor,  artist,  and  writer,  is  a  remark- 
ably gifted  woman.  Readers  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  are  familiar  with  her 
poems,  short  stories,  and  serials.  Her  story  "The  Wilderness"  placed  first  in  the  1941 
Rehef  Society  Short  Story  Contest,  and  "The  Ring  of  Strength"  placed  second  in 
1945.  In  the  1948  Relief  Society  contests,  Mrs.  Bailey  was  awarded  first  prize  in  the 
short  story  and  second  prize  in  poetry.  Her  poem  "Lot's  Wife"  won  first  prize  in 
the  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest  in  1951.  Her  serial  "The  Deeper  Melody"  is  cur- 
rently running  in  the  Magazine.  Mrs.  Bailey's  poems  have  appeared  in  many  antholo- 
gies, and  in  many  magazines  and  newspapers  of  national  circulation.  Since  girlhood, 
Mrs.  Bailey  has  been  active  in  Church  work.  She  is  now  president  of  the  M.  I.  A.  in 
the  Eleventh  Ward,  Salt  Lake  City.  Ahce  and  her  husband  DeWitt  Bailey  are  the 
parents  of  three  children  and  they  have  one  grandchild.  Mrs.  Bailey  is  a  member 
of  the  Utah  Sonneteers,  the  League  of  Utah  Writers,  the  Associated  Utah  Artists,  and 
at  present  is  acting  as  compositor  of  technical  reports.  College  of  Mines  and  Mineral 
Industries,  University  of  Utah,  Salt  Lake  City. 

Page  15 

J^sK^ard  Vi/i' 


Annual  Lrieuef  Society  Short  Story   (contest 

npHE  Relief  Society  general  board 
is  pleased  to  announce  the 
award  winners  in  the  Annual  Re- 
lief Society  Short  Story  Contest 
which  was  announced  in  the  June 
1953  issue  of  the  Magazine,  and 
which  closed  September  15,  1953. 

The  first  prize  of  fifty  dollars  is 
awarded  to  Dorothy  Clapp  Robin- 
son, Boise,  Idaho,  for  her  story 
"One  Wild  Rose."  The  second 
prize  of  forty  dollars  is  awarded  to 
Mary  Ek  Knowles,  Ogden,  Utah, 
for  her  story  "Beside  the  Still 
Waters."  The  third  prize  of  thirty 
dollars  is  awarded  to  Ruth  MacKay, 
Lethbridge,  Alberta,  Canada,  for 
her  story  "One  Sweetly  Solemn 

The  winners  of  the  first  and  sec- 
ond prizes  have  previously  placed 
in  the  Relief  Society  Short  Story 
Contest,  but  the  third  prize  winner, 
Ruth  MacKay,  appears  for  the  first 
time  as  a  contest  winner. 

This  contest,  first  conducted  by 
the  Relief  Society  general  board  in 
1941,  as  a  feature  of  the  Relief  So- 
ciety centennial  observance,  was 
made  an  annual  contest  in  1942. 
The  contest  is  open  only  to  Latter- 
day  Saint  women  who  have  had  at 
least  one  literary  composition  pub- 
lished or  accepted  for  publication 
by  a  periodical  of  recognized  merit. 

The  three  prize-winning  stories 
will  be  published  consecutively  in 
the  first  three  issues  of  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine  for  1954. 

Thirty-seven  stories  were  entered 
in  the  contest  for  1953.  Most  of 
these  stories  were  well  plotted  and 
well  written,  and  featured  realistic 

Page  16 

character  presentation  and  develop- 

The  contest  was  initiated  to  en- 
courage Latter-day  Saint  women  to 
express  themselves  in  the  field  of 
fiction.  The  general  board  feels  that 
the  response  to  this  opportunity 
continues  to  increase  the  literary 
quality  of  The  ReUei  Society  Maga- 
zine, and  will  aid  the  women  of  the 
Church  in  the  development  of 
their  gifts  in  creative  writing. 

Prize-winning  stories  are  the 
property  of  the  Relief  Society  gen- 
eral board,  and  may  not  be  used  for 
publication  by  others  except  on 
written  permission  of  the  general 
board.  The  general  board  also  re- 
serves the  right  to  publish  any  of 
the  stories  submitted,  paying  for 
them  at  the  time  of  publication  at 
the  regular  Magazine  rate.  A  writer 
who  has  received  the  first  prize  for 
two  consecutive  years  must  wait 
two  years  before  she  is  again  eligi- 
ble to  enter  the  contest. 

The  Rehei  Society  Magazine  now 
has  subscribers  in  every  State  in  the 
Union,  and  in  Alaska,  Hawaii,  Can- 
ada, Mexico,  Australia,  England, 
France,  Germany,  South  America, 
South  Africa,  and  other  countries. 

The  general  board  congratulates 
the  prize-winning  contestants,  and 
expresses  appreciation  for  all  those 
who  submitted  stories.  Sincere 
gratitude  is  extended  to  the  judges 
for  their  discernment  and  skill  in 
selecting  the  prize-winning  stories. 
The  general  board  also  acknowl- 
edges, with  appreciation,  the  work 
of  the  short  story  committee  in  su- 
pervising the  contest. 

[Prize-  yi/inning  Story 

Jinnual  Uielief  Society  Short  Story^    Contest 

First  Prize  Story 

One  Wild  Rose 

DoTothy  Giapp  Rohinson 

Gwen  swallowed,  trying  to  dis- 
lodge the  hardness  in  her  throat. 
She  knew  she  was  not  deceiving 
her  mother.  She  knew  her  loss  was 
her  parents'  loss.  She  knew  her 
every  moment  of  loneliness  and  her 
every  heartache  were  echoed  in  their 
hearts;  but  tonight  she  must  be 

After  her  mother's  car  had  passed 
from  sight,  Gwen  stood  motionless 
in  the  driveway.  For  long  minutes 
she  waited.  ''Why,"  she  whispered, 
''oh,  Donald,  why?" 

A  petulant  cry  came  from  the 
house.  "Muv-ver."  Gwen  went 
quickly  to  the  room  where  her  chil- 
dren slept. 

"I  wanted  you."  Donny  was  sit- 
ting upright,  his  chubby  fist  beating 
restlessly  on  the  pillow.  "Why  did 
not  you  come?" 

Gwen  sat  on  the  bed  beside  him. 
"S-s-sh.  Must  not  wake  baby  sis- 

Donny  glanced  at  his  sister's  crib. 
"She  is  dead  as  the  world,"  he  an- 
nounced scornfully. 

The  baby  was  sleeping  "dead  as 
the  world."  Dark  curls  clung  damp- 
ly about  her  gamin  face.  Her  rose- 
bud mouth  was  irresistible,  but 
even  as  Gwen  bent  to  kiss  it,  she 
drew  back  abruptly. 

"You  don't  like  her,"  Donny  ac- 

"Lie  down  and  go  to  sleep."  She 
hadn't  intended  her  tone  to  be  so 

Page  V 


GWEN  met  her  mother's  eyes 
with  forced  unconcern,  but 
her  fingers  were  cramped.  "I 
don't  need  you  any  longer.  Mother. 
Really,  I  am  all  right.  I  do  ap- 
preciate your  staying  with  the  chil- 
dren while  I  was  at  church." 

"Donny  isn't  asleep  yet.  I  could 
stay  .  .  .  ." 

"I'll  speak  to  him."  Gwen  hoped 
her  mouth  was  not  actually  as  tight 
as  it  felt.  Te  relieve  her  hands  she 
began  gathering  the  Sunday  papers. 
"I  can't  lean  on  you  and  Dad  for- 
ever.   You  have  been  so  kind." 

"Kind!"  With  a  sigh  Mrs.  Owens 
reached  for  her  handbag. 



harsh.  To  counteract  it  she  laid 
the  boy  back  on  his  pillow. 

'Toil  sing  and  I  sleep/'  Donny 

"Darling,  Mother  can't  sing  to 
night.  Please  be  a  good  boy  and 
go  to  sleep." 

''I  heard  you  once,"  he  persisted. 

She  could  not  do  it.  Never  again 
would  her  heart  and  throat  respond 
to  melody.  She  tried  to  pat  the 
boy  gently,  but  her  hand  moved  in 
jerks.  Bewildered  by  his  mother's 
unaccustomed  actions,  the  boy  lay 
quiet.  He  blinked  hard  trying  to 
keep  awake. 

Gwen  dropped  to  the  floor  and 
buried  her  face  in  the  bedding.  She 
tried  to  pray,  but  could  only  suffer. 
Donny's  hand  reached  and  grasped 
one  of  her  fingers.  When,  finally,  it 
relaxed,  she  rose  stiffly  and  went  in- 
to the  living  room.  She  turned  on 
the  radio,  but  snapped  it  off  im- 
mediately. Seeing  the  unoffending 
papers,  she  snatched  at  them  and 
tore  them  to  shreds.  She  stared  un- 
seeing at  the  litter  they  made  on 
the  floor.  Automatically,  she 
stooped  and  gathered  the  pieces  one 
by  one.  She  went  outside  to  dis- 
pose of  them. 

A  LONG  the  newly  surfaced  street 
lights  were  snapping  on  and  un- 
blinded  windows  gave  glimpses  of 
family  life.  Don  had  bought  in 
this  new  addition  thinking  there 
would  be  more  room  for  a  play  yard 
and  that  the  hazards  of  town  would 
be  at  a  minimum.  He  hadn't 
guessed.  How  could  he  have 
guessed  how  alone  she  was  going 
to  be! 

She  went  back  inside,  but  paced 
restlessly  back  and  forth,  from  room 
to  room,   picking  up   this,   setting 

down  that.  Inevitably  she  came 
again  to  look  out  upon  the  coming 

Twilight  had  deepened  into  a 
soft  purple  curtain  through  which 
a  few  stars  were  peeping.  The  tang 
and  pull  of  spring  lay  sweet  and 
challenging  on  the  air.  The  song 
that  had  refused  to  be  put  aside 
came  silently  to  her  lips 

''.  .  .  unknown  waves  before  me 
roll " 

Somewhere  angry  waves  were 
rolling  over  Don.  Perhaps  they  had 
flung  him  on  some  barren  shore. 
Perhaps— but  she  must  not  think. 
She  must  not.    She  closed  the  door. 

Thayne  and  Lila  were  new  in  the 
ward.  Tonight  they  had  sung, 
''Jesus,  Savior,  Pilot  Me."  That  had 
been  hard  to  take,  but  the  love,  the 
possessiveness  that  radiated  from 
them  had  been  the  one  thing  too 
much.  Of  all  songs  that  one  had 
meant  most  to  her  in  her  life  with 
Don.  They  had  been  singing  it 
when  they  met.  It  was  the  song 
Donny  had  wanted  her  to  sing,  and 
now  through  it  she  had  lost  Don. 

She  had  been  told  she  must  re- 
member—what was  it  she  must  re- 
member? She  looked  about  the 
room  and  tried  to  focus  her 
thoughts.  Oh,  yes,  she  must  re- 
member life  is  but  a  prelude. 
Somewhere  Don  was  still  Don,  the 
man  she  knew  so  well  and  loved  so 
desperately.  That  was  what  she 
had  been  taught.  That  was  what 
she  always  believed,  but  tonight 
belief  was  not  enough.  She  must 
know  or  go  mad  with  despair  and 

It  would  not  help  to  talk  to  any- 
one, not  even  Dad.  All  had  been 
said  that  could  be  said— had  been 
said  so  many  times  the  words  had 



lost  their  meaning.  (Son6'  w€t6  the 
compass  and  chart  that  had  directed 
her  hfe.  The  walls  of  the  room 
seemed  to  close  in  about  her,  suf- 
focating her  with  their  rigidity. 
She  snatched  at  the  back  door  and 
flung  it  open.  The  stars  were 
brighter  now,  though  in  the  direc- 
tion of  town  they  were  dimmed  by 
the  street  lights.  For  a  moment  the 
heavens  fascinated  her.  How  far 
was  a  star?  How  far  from  faith  to 
knowledge,  and  who  knew  the  way? 
In  quick  decision  she  went  back  to 
the  children.  Both  were  sleeping 
soundly.  She  glanced  from  the 
window.  Leah,  her  neighbor,  was 
looking  at  her  children.  Gwen 
rapped  on  the  pane. 

''Will  you  hsten  for  them?"  she 

''Surely.  Run  along."  It  was 
characteristic  of  Leah  that  she 
asked  no  questions. 

Gwen  tried  to  smile  her  thanks. 
She  offered  no  explanation  as  to 
where  she  was  going.  She  did  not 
know  where  she  was  going.  She  did 
not  care  except  that  the  way  must 
lead  to  peace.  Throwing  a  stole 
over  her  shoulders,  she  went  out 
into  the  night.  She  started  walk- 
ing, but  with  no  sense  of  direction. 

TT  had  been  just  such  an  evening 
as  this  when  she  and  Don  had 
met.  The  M  Men  and  Gleaners 
from  her  home  ward  had  gone  up 
the  river  for  a  picnic.  They  had  rid- 
den in  an  open  truck,  and,  leaning 
against  the  high  body,  she  had  no- 
ticed his  black  head,  just  noticed 
because  it  was  darker  and  could  be 
seen  above  the  others.  They  had 
sung  all  the  way,  popular  songs, 
sentimental  songs,  and  then  some- 
one had  started  "Jesus,  Savior,  Pilot 

Me."  Perhaps  it  had  teeii  prompt- 
ed by  the  nearness  of  the  road  to 
the  river,  or  perhaps  it  had  been  for 
no  reason  at  all.  Gwen  had  caught 
Don's  clear  rich  notes  through  the 
chorus  of  voices,  and  they  brought 
a  sweetness  and  fulness  to  her  heart 
not  experienced  before.  Around 
the  campfire  while  they  were  toast- 
ing weiners  she  had  noticed  him 
again.  She  had  thought  he  was  with 
Ruby  Denman. 

And  then,  suddenly,  evening  had 
laid  a  gauzy  blanket  over  the  scene. 
She  was  standing  on  the  brink  of 
the  river  reaching  for  a  wild  rose. 

"Let  me."  He  was  at  her  side. 
"You  might  fall." 

Getting  the  rose  had  been  easy 
for  him.  He  held  it  so  she  could 
inhale  the  fragrance.  Later,  they  had 
laughed  as  he  had  tried  to  pin  it  in 
her  hair— hair,  he  reminded,  that 
was  bright  and  golden  beside  the 
dark  sheen  of  his. 

"A  wild  rose  for  everlasting  love," 
he  said. 

"Are  you  sure?"  she  challenged. 

"I  am  sure  of  one  thing.  I  shall 
never  see  a  wild  rose  again,  but  I 
shall  see  you  and  this— this  heavenly 

Stumbling  alone  in  the  darkness, 
Gwen  remembered  how  sure  his 
words  had  been.  Don  had  always 
been  sure. 

They  had  walked  back  to  the 
group  hand  in  hand,  that  is,  her 
hand  was  resting  lightly  in  his,  but 
she  was  keenly  aware  of  the 
strength  of  the  fingers  that  had 
fumbled  with  the  bobby  pin.  From 
that  moment  there  had  been  no 
doubt.  Don  was  her  other,  her 
stronger  self.  With  him  life  was  a 
dream  materialized.  With  him  she 
was  strong  and  capable.     Without 



him  she  fumbled  in  a  sea  of  alone- 
ness.  But  the  aloneness  she  felt  to- 
night was  light  years  removed  from 
that  which  she  had  experienced 
then.  Her  life  had  been  torn  from 
its  moorings;  the  song,  the  stars,  the 
spring  breeze  cried  it  from  every 

npHEY  had  not  waited  long.  Don 
had  known  the  horror  and 
spiritual  desolation  of  the  South 
Pacific.  He  was  eager  for  home  and 
family.  When  she  knelt  at  the  altar 
and  became  his  for  time  and  eter- 
nity, Gwen  had  been  sure,  so  very 
sure.  There  was  an  eternity,  and 
she  and  Don  would  share  it  togeth- 

Everything  that  had  helped  to 
bring  about  the  marriage  had  been 
motivated  by  love  and  a  sense  of 
unity,  and  everything  about  the 
marriage  had  been  charged  with  the 
same  calm  unison  of  spirit  she  had 
experienced  the  night  they  had  met. 
The  coming  of  the  babies  had  lift- 
ed their  ecstasy  to  the  higher  plane 
of  parenthood. 

Walking,  walking  in  the  dark- 
ness, Gwen  lived  again  those  bright 
years.  She  recalled  the  first  time 
they  had  sung  together  in  church. 
They  had  chosen  ''J^^^^,  Savior, 
Pilot  Me"  because  of  its  special 
meaning  for  them.  She  loved  the 
poetry  of  its  words,  the  haunting 
melody  of  its  notes. 

She  had  smiled  smugly  that 
night.  A  kindly  fate  had  chartered 
their  course  and  spared  them  the 
rolling  of  boisterous  waves.  She  was 
Gwen  and  he  was  Don,  and  the 
babies  were  both  of  them.  They 
were  a  unit.  They  would  always  be 
a  unit.  Death  was  something  that 
came  to  people,  but  when  two  were 

joined,  as  she  and  Don,  there  could 
be  no  real  separation. 

Gwen  suddenly  became  conscious 
that  all  the  while  she  had  been  re- 
living those  happy  years  her  feet 
had  chosen  their  own  path.  Where 
the  path  led  did  not  enter  her 
mind.  The  way  of  going  was  imma- 
terial. Tonight  one  relived  moment 
of  intimacy  had  jerked  her  from  her 
comforting  bed  of  faith.  Gone  also 
was  her  future,  her  assurance  of  re- 
union with  Don.  She  must  find 
these  things  again,  or  there  was  no 
meaning  to  life— there  could  be  no 
life.  She  could  endure  the  endless 
days,  the  interminable  nights,  the 
excruciating  loneliness  of  body  and 
spirit,  if  only  she  knew.  Physically 
exhausted,  she  sank  to  the  earth. 
She  looked  about  as  one  struggling 
from  a  coma. 

All  about  her  trees  elbowed  each 
other  and  their  leaves  stirred  sleep- 
ily. The  moon  had  risen  and  its 
reflected  light  glistened  from  water. 
The  river!  Shock  struck  the  fuzzi- 
ness  from  her  mind.  She  had  come 
back.  Back  to  where  she  had  met 
Don.  Here  they  had  come  most 
frequently  for  their  picnics,  and  it 
had  been  the  scene  of  their  last  one. 
Once  Donny,  venturing  too  near, 
had  fallen  into  the  water.  She  had 
screamed  with  fright  and  run  for 
him,  but  Don  was  already  holding 

''He  might  have  drowned,"  she 

Don  laughed.  "He  might,  if  the 
water  had  been  a  little  deeper  right 
here,  but  he  didn't.  I  was  here." 
He  gave  the  boy  a  gentle  spat. 
''Now,  young  man,  don't  get  so 
close  next  time." 

'Til  never  come  here  again." 

"Why?     Donny   is  a   boy.     He 


will  seek  adventure  and  must  learn  emotions.       She     ran     her     hands 

to  handle  himself.    We  can't  avoid  through   her   hair  and   her   fingers 

life  by  running."  caught.    Her  elbows  dropped  to  her 

So  simple,  so  safe,  when  Don  was  knees.       ''Don,"     she     whispered, 

here.     It  was  absurd  to  worry  the  wordlessly,    ''Don,    come    back.     I 

tiniest  bit.  They  were  a  unit,  com-  need  you  so." 

plete,  irrevocable.  just    when    the    fragrance    first 

_„  111                       r  touched  Gwen  she  did  not  know, 

JT  had  been  too  perfect,  or  per-  ^^^  gradually  it  was  there,  so  deli- 

haps    she    had    been    too    sure,  ^ate,  so  all-enveloping,  so  rich  in 

A  call  had  come  and  Don  had  gone  memories  and  promises.  She  raised 

seekmg-no,  not  seeking,  but  meet-  ^er  head.     The  moon  was  behind 

ing  adventure.    She  was  happy,  for  ^^e  trees  and  she  could  see  little 

he  was  still  with  her,  though  his  through  the  filtered  light.    Guided 

letters  were  often  weeks  apart  and  ^y  the  fragrance  her  fingers  groped 

came  from  rem.ote  outposts.     His  ^^d  found  the  blossom.    One  wild 

time  m  service  nearly  finished,  she  j-ose!     She  broke  it  from  the  stem 

had  hastened  to  prepare  their  home  ^^d  lifted  it  to  her  cheek.    For  a 

for  his  coming.    Then  his  plane  had  i^^g  moment  she  caressed  it.    The 

gone  into  the  water,  and  there  had  fragrance  grew  and  grew   until  it 

been  no  one  to  pull  him  out  as  he  reached   the   farthest   tip   of   each 

had  Donny.  nerve.    Then,  like  a  dehcate  spring. 

What  followed  had  been  night-  it  released  the  tension  that  had 
mare  from  which  she  had  struggled  j^eld  her  rigid  for  so  long.  Long- 
to  awaken,  but  back  of  the  night-  smothered  sobs  twisted  her  body 
mare,  mellowing  her  heartache,  had  ^^th  their  violence, 
been  Don  as  always  Until  tonight  ^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^  j  ^^^  -^ 
they  had  been  a  unit.  Abruptly  she  ^^^^^^^  ^^^^^^^^  O^^  ^^^^^^ 
had  become  a  lone  lone  y  widow.  ^^^^  ^^^  .^^^^.^  ^-^^  ^^^^^-^ 
Her  childreri  were  fatherless.  She  ^^^  ^^^  ^  J  ^^^  ^^^^  -^^^  -^^ 
had  been  told  so  many  things,  she  ^.^^  ^  ^  .^^^^  ^^^^  ^^^^  ^^^^-^^ 
had  been  promised  so  much,  but  ^  ^^^^^  ^^  ^j^^  sublime.  Her  starved 
all  of  it  was  as  nothing  against  her  ^^^^  ^^^^^  .^  ^^^  sweetness,  the 
lack  of  knowledge.  How  could  she  ^^^^^^^  p^^er  of  it.  Don  was 
be  certain?                            ^    ,    ,  back,  for  only  he  could  give  this 

The  answer  to  that  was  that  she  ^^rength,  this  sense  of  togetherness, 
could  not  know.  All  the  truths  she  ^  ^  .  i  .  ^  j  r 
had  been  taught,  all  the  principles  Sometime  later  the  mood  of  ex- 
she  had  lived  by  were  but  beliefs,  citation  passed,  and  Gwen  was 
balm  for  grieving  hearts.  She  didn't  f^\^ff^  ^^J^  !^^  ^^^  TlSe 
want  them.    She  wanted  Don.  She  She  had  found  Don   and  now  she 

wanted  to  know.  "^^'^  g^  ^^  ^^^''  ^^^'^'■ 

Time,  maliciously,  refused  to  pass.  As   she   opened  her   front  door 

For  eons,  it  seemed,  she  sat  suffer-  Gwen  turned  for  a  last  look  at  the 

ing.    She  tried  to  think.  She  tried  night.    Dawn  was  a  brush  of  deli- 

to    pray,    but    as    before,    nothing  cate    pink    above    the    dark    hills, 

could  penetrate  the  cloud  of  her  Night  was  gone,  and  it  was  a  new 



day.  It  was  a  new  day  for  never 
again  would  she  experience  the 
complete  desolation  of  spirit  she 
had  known  this  night.  Now  she 

The  thought  startled  her.  How 
did  she  know?  Did  she  know?  She 
knew  in  a  positive  physical  sense 
that  the  rose  was  there  before  she 
touched  it.  She  knew  because  of 
its  fragrance.  In  just  as  positive, 
but  less  tangible  way,  she  knew 
Don  was  still  Don.  There  could  be 
no  mistake  about  the  sweet  tran- 
quility only  he  could  bring.  Like 
the    fragrance,    the    evidence    was 

there  if  the  substance  was  not.  Was 
this  then  knowledge,  or  was  it  faith? 

One  bright  star  lingered  in  the 
sky,  and  she  studied  it.  Again  she 
asked,  how  far  is  a  star?  How  far 
between  faith  and  knowledge? 
Knowledge,  perhaps,  was  as  far  as 
a  star,  and  the  path  to  it  as  inexplic- 
able as  faith.  Perhaps,  but  it  no 
longer  mattered.  The  question  had 
lost  its  importance.  Closing  the 
door  she  turned  toward  the  bed- 
room and  words  came  melodiously 
to  her  lips: 

''.  .  .  I  hear  thee  say  to  me,  fear 
not:  I  will  pilot  thee." 

^     'Jc     ^ 

Dorothy  Chpp  Robinson,  Boise,  Idaho,  is  well  known  to  readers  of  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine.  Her  stories  have  pleased  a  wide  audience  for  many  years,  and  she 
is  adept  at  writing  serials  as  well  as  shorter  fiction.  She  was  awarded  third  prize  in 
the  Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest  in  1945,  and  first  prize  in  1950.  "Writing  has 
been  a  source  of  joy  to  me,"  she  tells  us,  "for  through  it  I  have  formed  some  of  the 
most  satisfying  friendships  of  my  life.  I  have  served  five  times  as  chapter  president 
and  State  president  of  The  Idaho  Writers  League,  of  which  I  am  a  charter  member. 
Relief  Society,  of  course,  has  been  the  big  work  of  my  life.  However,  I  have  served 
in  ward  and  stake  capacities  in  all  the  auxiliaries,  except  Primary.  At  present  I  am 
working  on  the  Sunday  School  stake  board.  I  was  bom  in  Colorado,  but  came  to 
Idaho  as  a  small  child.  I  am  mother  of  five  children  and  grandmother  to  eighteen — 
all  under  ten  years  of  age.  The  eighteen  include  one  pair  of  twins  born  to  one  of 
my  twins.  I  am  a  twin,  as  was  my  father.  So  my  material  for  juvenile  stories  comes 

J/imateur  (gardeners  uieward 

Sudie  Stuart  Hager 

When  summer  left,  the  weeds  stood  high 

In  every  vegetable  row. 

And  clover  blossomed  in  the  grass 

That  I  had  failed  to  mow; 

Each  dead  bloom-stalk  was  mummified. 

The  unpruned  bushes  sprawled. 

So  that  I  viewed  my  yard  with  shame 

When  green-thumbed  neighbors  called. 

But  winter  with  his  tinseling-brush 

Has  made  each  drab  thing  shine; 

And  there's  no  other  garden-spot 

As  glorious  as  mine! 

First  Ladies  of  Our  Land 

Wives  of  the  Presidents 

Part  III 

Elsie  C.  Carroll 

JANE  Appleton  Pierce  (1806- 
1863)  daughter  of  a  college 
president,  loved  reading,  music, 
and  quiet,  studious  pursuits.  She 
felt  alone  in  chattering,  laughing 
crowds,  and  was  a  sensitive,  loving 
woman,  of  delicate  and  fragile  con- 
stitution. At  twenty-eight  (in  1834) 
she  was  married  to  the  handsome 
and  charming  Franklin  Pierce, 
then  a  member  of  Congress. 

During  the  eight  years  she  spent 
in  Washington  while  her  husband 
was  a  Senator,  she  constantly 
dreamed  of  the  time  they  could  re- 
turn to  their  home  in  Concord, 
New  Hampshire,  and  live  quietly 
with  their  sons.  In  a  social  way  she 
did  only  what  was  necessary.  It  was 
largely  because  of  her  unhappiness 
that  her  husband  did  not  even  fin- 
ish his  last  term  as  Senator.  After 
his  resignation  he  refused  to  accept 
a  place  in  the  cabinet  offered  him 
by  President  Polk.  He  declared  he 
resigned  so  he  could  be  with  his 
family  and  he  did  not  intend  to 
leave  them  for  any  length  of  time 
unless  his  country  called  in  time  of 

Soon  the  war  with  Mexico  be- 
gan, and  he  volunteered  as  a  pri- 
vate but  was  soon  a  brigadier  gen- 
eral. He  became  a  hero  when, 
after  being  wounded,  he  insisted 
on  being  lifted  to  his  horse  and 
leading  his  men  into  battle. 

When  the  war  was  over  he  re- 
turned to  his  law  practice,  fully  in- 



tending  to  keep  his  promise  to 
Jane  to  keep  out  of  public  life.  In 
1848  he  refused  a  nomination  for 
Governor.  But  four  years  later 
there  was  such  a  clamor  for  him  to 
run  for  President  that  he  consent- 
ed, and  almost  against  his  will  he 
was  voted  into  office,  and  served 
one  term  (1853-1857).  He  was  the 
youngest  man  up  to  that  time  to 
be  President— only  forty-nine. 

A  short  time  before  his  inaugura- 
tion their  oldest  son  was  killed  in 
an  accident.  They  had  already  lost 
their  two  younger  children,  both 
boys.  Jane  never  recovered  from  this 

Page  23 



final  shock.  The  people  of  Wash- 
ington loved  her  as  she  stood  duti- 
fully beside  her  husband  at  all  cere- 
monies where  she  was  expected  to 
appear.  She  had  the  valor  neces- 
sary to  make  her  do  graciously  the 
tasks  she  dreaded,  but  which  she 
performed  only  for  her  husband's 
sake  and  from  a  sense  of  duty. 

After  their  retirement  from  the 
White  House  in  1857,  the  Pierces 
traveled  in  Madeira  and  in  Europe. 
Jane  died  in  1863,  and  was  followed 
in  1869  by  her  sorrowing  and  de- 
voted husband. 

James  Buchanan  (1857-1861), 
fifteenth  President,  was  a  bachelor, 
the  first  President  to  enter  the 
White  House  unmarried  and  the 
only  one  to  depart  still  a  bachelor. 
He  brought  to  the  White  House  to 
serve  as  official  hostess,  his  niece 
Harriet  Lane  Johnston,  who  had 
chosen  him  among  all  her  relatives 
to  be  her  guardian  when,  at  the  age 
of  nine  she  was  left  an  orphan. 
She  made  a  charming  First  Lady 
when  her  uncle  went  to  the  White 

Mary  Todd  Lincoln  (1818-1882) 
was  the  daughter  of  a  prominent 
and  influential  Kentucky  family. 
She  was  ambitious  for  her  husband, 
the  young  Springfield  lawyer  whom 
she  married  in  1842. 

Her  years  in  the  White  House 
(1861-1865)  were  far  from  happy, 
far  from  her  dreams  of  what  they 
would  be.  She  was  watched  and 
gossiped  about  and  laughed  at  by 
some  who  thought  it  ridiculous  to 
have  the  wife  of  a  prairie  lawyer  as 
First  Lady. 

Willie  (William  Wallace)  the 
third  son,  died  during  Mary's  ten- 
ure in  the  White  House,  and  she 



never  again  entered  the  Blue  Room, 
where  his  body  had  lain. 

However,  Mary  had  a  good 
knowledge  of  political  affairs,  a  fine 
education,  and  the  ability  to  make 
correct,  even  though  often  impul- 
sive, judgments.  At  times  she  was 
extravagant  in  her  dress  and  ran  in 
debt  for  clothes  and  jewelry  at  most 
of  the  Washington  stores.  Over 
eager  to  fulfill  the  requirements  of 
her  social  position,  she  was  not 
always  at  ease  and  often  found  her- 
self in  embarrasing  situations. 

Mary  suffered  over  her  unpopu- 
larity. On  one  occasion,  after  she 
had  spent  hours  preparing  to  go 
down  to  a  public  reception,  she 
stopped  at  the  head  of  the  stairs 
and  said  to  her  husband,  'They  do 
not  want  me.     They  say  I  am  a 



rebel  sympathizer  because  I  was 
born  in  Kentucky,  and  that  I  give 
information  to  the  Confederates, 
and  that  I  am  not  loyal  to  you  or 
the  Union/' 

The  patient  Abe  agreed  that  they 
had  a  hard  position,  but  reminded 
her  that  they  had  some  very  loyal 
friends,  and  that  they  were  there 
in  the  reception  rooms  waiting  for 
them.  So,  with  head  up,  Mary 
went  down  to  their  guests. 

Some  of  their  loyal  friends,  such 
as  Sumner  and  Douglas,  wanted  her 
to  stop  the  vicious  gossip  about  her- 
self by  publishing  the  facts  that  she 
spent  much  time  in  Union  hospitals 
helping  the  staffs  with  organizing 
details  and  cheering  Union  veterans 
with  her  keen  wit,  and  that  when 
she  was  seen  riding  unattended 
down  Pennsylvania  Avenue  she  was 
going  to  some  relief  work,  not  as 
the  gossips  rumored,  to  meet  some 


(1808  (?)  -  1876) 

In  spite  of  her  sharp  tongue  and 
changeable  disposition,  Mary  loved 
her  husband  and  worried  about  his 
heavy  responsibilities  and  grave 

At  last  the  war  was  over,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  that  things  would 
be  easier.  Lincoln  had  been  re- 
elected and  was  being  hailed  as  the 
savior  of  his  country.  Mary  insist- 
ed on  his  going  to  the  theatre  for 
relaxation.  Then  came  the  tragedy 
of  his  assassination,  April  15,  1865. 

Sad  years  for  Mary  followed.  Her 
health  was  impaired,  and  the  trag- 
edies of  her  years  in  the  White 
House  had  resulted  in  recurrent 
emotional  and  mental  instability. 
After  several  years  of  traveling,  and 
periods  of  treatment  in  various  hos- 
pitals, she  went  to  live  with  her 
sister,  Mrs.  Ninian  Edwards  in  the 
old  home  town— Springfield,  Illi- 
nois. After  a  time  Sumner  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  a  pension  for  her, 
but  she  continued  to  grieve  until 
her  death,  seventeen  years  after 
Lincoln's  death,  in  the  same  room 
in  which  she  had  been  courted. 

The  next  First  Lady,  Eh'za  Mc- 
CardJe  /ohnson,  married  Andrew  be- 
fore his  nineteenth  birthday.  He 
owned  a  tailoring  shop  and  she  was 
the  daughter  of  a  shoemaker.  How- 
ever, Eliza  was  able  to  assist  her 
husband  in  learning  to  write,  and 
she  read  to  him  while  he  plied  his 
needle.  They  lived  in  the  back 
room  of  the  tailoring  shop,  but 
young  Andrew  was  ambitious  for 
learning.  He  joined  a  debating  so- 
ciety and  became  known  as  ''the 
village  Demosthenes." 

During  his  struggle  upward,  Eliza 
took  care  of  their  home  and  helped 
to  make  a  living  for  the  family. 
After    three    terms    as    Mayor    of 



Greenville,  Andrew  was  elected  to 
Congress,  and  later  served  two 
terms  as  Governor  of  Tennessee. 
Then  he  was  elected  to  represent 
Tennessee  as  a  Senator. 

He  fought  the  growing  tide  of 
secession,  and  it  was  as  a  Southern 
Unionist  that  he  was  elected  Vice- 
President  on  Lincoln's  ticket.  The 
assassination  of  President  Lincoln 
in  1865,  brought  Andrew  Johnson 
to  the  Presidency  and  Eliza  became 
First  Lady  (1865-1869). 

Eliza,  however,  was  an  invalid  by 
the  time  she  went  into  the  White 
House,  but  she  still  gave  comfort 
and  encouragement  to  her  hus- 
band during  the  hard  years  of  the 
reconstruction,  while  her  daughter 
Martha,  wife  of  Senator  David  Pat- 
terson, performed  the  duties  of  of- 
ficial hostess  in  a  very  satisfactory 

Martha  won  the  respect  of 
Washington  when  the  family  ar- 
rived and  she  said  to  a  news  re- 
porter: ''We  are  plain  people  from 
the  mountains  of  Tennessee,  and 
we  do  not  propose  to  put  on  airs 
because  we  have  the  fortune  to  oc- 
cupy this  place  for  a  little  while." 

People  respected  Martha  and  ad- 
mired her  integrity.  They  did  not 
even  gossip  when  it  was  known 
that  she  brought  two  cows  to  the 
Capital,  which  she  milked  herself. 
Her  teas  and  other  socials  were 
popular,  even  when  her  father  was 
threatened  with  impeachment. 

Eliza  helped  to  superintend  and 
organize  the  first  White  House 
Easter  party  for  children,  and  she 
was  a  kind  and  wise  advisor  to  her 
children  and  a  friend  of  all  who 
came  to  the  Executive  Mansion. 
Although    her    health    became    in- 

creasingly precarious,  Eliza  outlived 
her  husband  six  months.  She  died 
in  January  1876. 

Julia  Dent  Giant  (1826-1902), 
who  was  married  August  22,  1848, 
spent  the  first  years  of  her  married 
life  in  one  army  camp  after  anoth- 
er.   When   her   husband   resigned 



from  the  army,  they  lived  for  a  time 
on  a  farm  near  St.  Louis,  Missouri, 
belonging  to  Julia.  But  Grant  be- 
came disabled  because  of  illness  and 
they  left  the  farm.  He  tried  several 
kinds  of  work  with  little  success. 
Then  came  the  Civil  War,  and  it 
was  not  long  before  he  was  the  gen- 
eral who  Lincoln  declared  was  in- 
dispensable because  he  won  battles. 
During  the  war  Julia  had  some 
dangerous  experiences.  Once  she 
escaped  from  a  garrison  that  was 
about  to  be  taken  by  hiding  herself 
and  her  four-year-old  son  in  a  box- 



car  on  a  railroad  track  and  waiting 
there  until  a  train  finally  picked 
up  the  car  and  she  was  carried  to 

Her  husband  came  out  of  the 
war  as  the  hero  who  had  saved  the 
Union  and  was  chosen  President  of 
the  United  States  at  the  election  in 
1869,  and  served  two  terms  in  the 
White  House. 

Julia  enjoyed  good  health  and 
was  vivacious  and  energetic,  and  of 
a  happy  disposition;  though  she  did 
not  enjoy  social  life  to  a  great  ex- 
tent, she  performed  her  duties  as 
First  Lady  with  grace  and  charm. 
Nellie,  the  only  daughter,  was  mar- 
ried in  the  White  House  in  1874, 
being  the  seventh  "daughter  of  a 
President"  to  be  married  during  her 
father's  term  of  office.  The  wedding 
was  a  social  event  long  remembered 
in  the  capital.  Julia  was  adored  by 
her  husband,  who,  in  the  years  fol- 
lowing his  retirement  from  political 
life,  and  during  the  time  of  his 
fatal  illness,  wrote  his  personal  his- 
tory of  the  war  years  to  provide  an 
income  for  Julia  after  his  death. 
With  her  at  his  side  he  wrote 
until  he  could  no  longer  move 
a  pencil,  then  whispered  dictation 
of  the  last  chapters,  thus  winning 
his  last  battle  for  the  woman  he 
loved.  Ulysses  Grant  died  in  1885, 
and  Julia  survived  him  seventeen 

Lucy  Webb  Hayes  (1831-1889), 
the  next  First  Lady,  who  was  mar- 
ried in  1852,  celebrated  her  silver 
wedding  anniversary  in  the  White 
House.  Friends  said  that  she 
looked  more  attractive  on  that  oc- 
casion even  than  she  had  at  her 
wedding,  a  sweet  and  unassuming 
bride  just  out  of  college.  They 
recognized,  however,  that  the  years 



had  given  her  an  inner  depth  and 
poise  and  faith  in  herself  which 
well  fitted  her  to  be  mistress  of  the 
White  House. 

There  she  inaugurated  regular 
Sunday  circles  which  she  made  at- 
tractive, as  she  did  all  her  social 
functions,  for  which  she  herself 
superintended  the  decorations,  the 
music,  and  the  catering.  It  was  said 
that  she  always  seemed  as  fresh  and 
charming  at  the  end,  even  of  a  big 
reception,  as  at  the  beginning. 

Her  husband  always  talked  over 
his  problems  with  her  and  respected 
her  opinions  and  decisions.  He  up- 
held her  in  her  decision  not  to  serve 
liquor  in  the  White  House.  There 
was  a  loud  protest  to  this  edict  at 
first,  but  she  challenged  her  critics 
with  the  question:  "Cannot  people 
be  as  interesting  and  witty  without 
wine  as  with  it?"  And  they  soon  ac- 
cepted her  wish  good  humoredly. 

She  tried  to  have  a  family  hour 



as  often  as  possible  when  she  and 
the  President  would  devote  them- 
selves entirely  to  their  children, 
helping  them  with  their  homework, 
playing,  and  reading  with  them. 
They  had  eight  children,  five  of 
whom  grew  to  maturity.  The  chil- 
dren had  many  friends,  one  of 
whom  declared  after  a  visit  to  the 
White  House,  ''I  will  never  be  satis- 
fied with  a  husband  who  is  not 
President."  She  had  been  impressed 
by  the  idyllic  happiness  of  President 
and  Mrs.  Hayes.  This  friend  later 
married  William  Howard  Taft,  and 
thus  fulfilled  her  wish. 

Lucy  was  adored  by  the  employ- 
ees of  the  Executive  Mansion.  She 
entertained  them  and  their  children 
on  special  occasions.  On  Christmas 
each  child  received  a  gift  selected 
by  the  First  Lady  herself.  The  slo- 
gan of  her  life  seemed  to  be: /'Noth- 
ing is  too  much  trouble  if  it  brings 
happiness  to  someone." 

Once  an  older  soldier  of  the  War 
of  1812  was  brought  to  the  White 
House  to  be  photographed  for 
some  special  purpose.  The  new  uni- 
form sent  for  him  to  wear  lacked 
the  stripes  to  show  he  was  a  serge- 
ant. Seeing  his  disappointment, 
Mrs.  Hayes  procured  needle  and 
thread  and  was  busy  sewing  the 
stripes  on  the  uniform,  sitting  on 
the  floor,  it  is  said,  when  a  British 
ambassador  came  into  the  room 
with  a  group  of  tourists  he  was 
showing  around  the  Mansion. 

President  and  Mrs.  Hayes  left  the 
White  House  in  1881.  She  was  long 
remembered  in  Washington  for  her 
visits  to  hospitals  with  armfuls  of 
flowers,  and  for  her  championship 
of  woman  suffrage.  When  she  died, 
in  i88g,  flags  were  lowered  at  half 
mast  in  cities  all  over  the  land. 

Lucretia  Rudolph  GariieJd  (1832- 
1918)  was  a  Campbellite.  She  met 
James  Abram  when  they  were  both 
studying  to  be  teachers.  He  was 
janitor  for  the  Eclectic  Institute 
while  he  was  studying.  After  a  long 
courtship,  they  were  married,  No- 
vember 11,  1858.  James  was  then 
principal  of  Hiram  College,  in 
Ohio,  delivered  lectures  and  ser- 
mons, and  studied  law  in  addition. 
Later  he  became  president  of  the 
college.  They  lived  on  the  campus 
until  he  entered  the  army  when  the 
Civil  War  broke  out. 

He  was  called  the  praying  colonel 
and  had  a  great  influence  over  men 
in  the  army.  Once  he  enlisted  sixty 
men  at  a  ball  by  telling  them  of  the 
merrymaking  in  Brussels  on  the  eve 
of  the  Battle  of  Waterloo. 

After  the  war,  Mr.  Garfield  arose 
rapidly  in  the  political  world  and 
was  nominated  for  President  in 
1880.  Lucretia  was  very  reticent 
and  retiring  in  character,  but  had 
the  best  of  judgment.  Her  husband 
often  remarked  that  he  never  had  to 
excuse  any  of  her  words.  She  dis- 
liked publicity,  but  made  a  pleasing 
impression  during  the  short  time  she 
resided  in  the  White  House.  The 
five  Garfield  children  and  the 
President's  aged  mother,  Eliza  Bal- 
low  Garfield,  accompanied  James 
and  Lucretia  to  the  WTiite  House. 

When  Lucretia  contracted  ty- 
phoid fever,  her  husband  was 
crushed  by  her  illness.  As  one  writ- 
er says,  'This  small,  unobtrusive 
woman  had  given  Garfield  mental 
consolation  and  support  since  the 
ripening  of  their  youthful  friend- 
ship. He  sat  by  her  bed  day  and 
night,  devoting  himself  personally 
to  her  care." 





She  finally  was  well  enough  to 
be  taken  to  a  health  resort  and  was 
about  ready  to  return  to  the  Ex- 
ecutive Mansion  when  she  received 
word  that  James  had  been  shot  by 
a  disappointed  office  seeker.  She 
arrived  in  Washington  in  time  to 
bring  comfort  to  him  in  his  hour  of 
death,  as  she  had  done  through  his 
hfe.  He  died  in  September  1881, 
less  than  a  year  after  his  inaugura- 
tion. After  many  years  of  widow- 
hood, Lucretia  died  in  1918. 

EJJen  Herndon  Arthur,  wife  of 
Chester  A.  Arthur,  who  was 
married  in  1859,  died  just  be- 
fore he  became  president  in  1881, 
but  her  influance  which  had 
been  great  during  her  lifetime,  con- 
tinued with  him  after  she  was  gone. 
He  cherished  her  memory  to  the 
day  of  his  death.  All  the  time  he 
was  in  the  White  House  he  placed 
fresh  flowers  under  her  picture  each 

morning  before  he  left  for  his  of- 
fice. He  had  a  memorial  window 
placed  in  the  church  where  he 
worshiped,  and  in  the  home  they 
had  shared,  her  room  and  all  her 
personal  belongings  were  kept  just 
as  she  had  left  them,  even  to  the 
needle  in  some  sewing  she  had  been 
doing  when  she  became  ill. 

President  Arthur's  sister,  Mrs. 
John  McElroy,  acted  as  his  official 
hostess,  though  he  himself  gave  the 
geniality  and  friendliness  to  social 
functions  he  knew  his  wife  would 
have  given. 

Frances  FoJsom  Cleveland  (1864- 
1947),  the  next  mistress  of  the 
White  House,  1886-1889  and  1893- 
1897,  captured  the  nation's  cap- 
ital at  once.  It  was  said  that  no 
one  could  meet  her  even  with  a 
handclasp  at  a  public  reception 
without  sensing  her  splendid  friend- 







She  had  the  distinction  of  being 
married  (June  2,  1886)  in  the  Ex- 
ecutive Mansion,  a  bride  of  twenty- 
two,  standing  under  a  bell  of  red 
roses  in  the  Blue  Room.  She  had 
been  a  ward  of  Grover  Cleveland 
following  the  death  of  her  father, 
Grover's  law  partner.  The  second 
bachelor  to  be  inaugurated  Presi- 
dent was  then  forty-nine.  He  had 
known  Frances  since  she  was  a 

Frances  entertained  with  ease  and 
graciousness  at  all  functions.  Some- 
times the  crowds  were  so  large  at 
the  evening  receptions  that  officers 
would  halt  the  guests  a  few  mo- 
ments, at  intervals,  to  give  Mrs. 
Cleveland  a  moment's  rest. 

People  felt  so  much  at  home  that 
they  wandered  all  through  the 
White  House,  except  through  the 
few  rooms  on  the  second  floor  re- 
served for  the  President's  family, 
making  themselves,  as  one  writer 
says,  ''democratically  at  home." 

For  three  years  Frances  enjoyed 
being  mistress  of  the  White  House. 
Then  Benjamin  Harrison  became 
President.  However,  four  years  lat- 
er the  Clevelands  returned.  But 
now  times  had  changed.  People 
criticized  and  found  fault.  They 
blamed  the  President  for  the  busi- 
ness panic  of  that  time.  They  gos- 
siped about  the  private  lives  in  the 
White  House,  accusing  Frances  of. 
snobbishness  because  she  refused  tc 
let  the  public  caress  her  baby,  and! 
rumoring  that  there  was  domestic 
trouble  if  she  ever  went  to  a  con- 
cert or  theatre  without  her  husband. 

Through  all  this  she  remained  her 
friendly,  gracious  self  and  won  back 
some  of  the  popularity  of  former 
years  before  the  end  of  the  term. 
The  second  daughter  of  the  Cleve- 
lands was  born  in  the  White  House 
during  the  President's  second  term. 
In  all,  four  children  were  born  to 
them.  Grover  Cleveland  died  in 
1908,  and  Frances,  who  was  twenty- 
seven  years  younger  than  her  hus- 
band, died  in  1947. 

Caroline  Scott  Harrison  (1832- 
1892)  and  her  husband  Benjamin 
were  both  interested  in  social  serv- 
ice while  they  were  students,  and 
this  interest  continued  after  their 
marriage.  In  fact,  the  day  her  hus- 
band was  elected  President,  Caro- 
line spent  the  early  evening  in  an 
orphan  asylum,  and  said  she  was 
tired  as  she  prepared  early  to  go  to 
bed.  When  her  husband  said  he 
would  go  with  her,  their  son-in-law 
asked  if  they  were  not  going  to  re- 
main up  to  hear  the  election  re- 
turns. Harrison  answered,  ''What 
good  will  that  do?  Should  I  be  de- 
feated, my  staying  up  all  night 
would  do  no  good.     Should  I  win, 



it  is  better  that  I  be  rested  and  fresh 
for  the  activities  of  tomorrow." 

Carohne  was  used  to  Washing- 
ton society,  for  she  had  hved  there 
six  years  while  her  husband  was 
Senator.  She  performed  her  duties 
as  First  Lady  (1889-1892)  with 
poise  and  cheerfulness,  though  she 
regretted  the  restrictions  the  eti- 
quette of  her  position  placed  upon 
her,  as  she  must  always  be  ready  to 
receive  callers  and  so  could  not 
spend  an  entire  day  doing  charity 

A  joy  to  both  her  and  her  hus- 
band was  their  little  grandson,  the 
son  of  Mary  Harrison  McKee,  who 
received  almost  as  much  publicity 
during  the  administration  as  did 
the  President  and  First  Lady. 

Caroline  Scott  Harrison  died  in 
the  White  House,  October  25,  1892, 
a  little  more  than  a  year  before  the 
end  of  her  husband's  term  of  of- 
fice. Benjamin  Harrison  died  in 
1901,  two  years  after  he  had  served 
as  President  McKinley's  representa- 
tive to  the  Hague  Peace  Confer- 

»  ♦ » 

Support  the    iTlarcn  of  Q)imes 

Basil  O'Connor 
President,  the  National  Foundation  for  Infantile  Paralysis 


N  sixteen  short  years,  the  March  of  Dimes  research  has  broken  through 
tremendous  barriers  that  once  stood  between  man  and  the  conquest  of 
polio.  Step  by  step,  scientists  have  advanced  from  the  depths  of  the  un- 
known to  the  threshold  of  victory.  In  opening  up  a  fourth  front  against 
infantile  paralysis,  the  National  Foundation  now  strikes  directly  at  the 
heart  of  the  polio  problem.  Its  objective  is  to  extend  protection  against 
this  paralytic  disease  to  the  greatest  number  of  people— eventually  to 
all  people. 

A  polio  prevention  program  is  possible  today  because,  through  March 
of  Dimes  research,  science  for  the  first  time  has  in  its  hands  both  a  limited, 
temporary  preventive  agent  and  a  trial  vaccine  which  may  provide  the 
final  answer  to  infantile  paralysis.  Today,  plans  are  being  made  for  what 
may  be  the  final  assault— the  practical  use  of  laboratory  knowledge  to  meet 
the  needs  of  human  beings. 

The  March  of  Dimes,  already  financing  patient  aid,  scientific  research, 
and  professional  education,  soon  will  leave  the  laboratories  to  fight  polio 
by  prevention  in  the  families  of  the  nation. 

To  do  this,  an  additional  $7,500,000  will  be  needed  during  1954  alone 
for  the  mass  production  of  a  trial  vaccine,  and  for  the  staging  of  the 
largest  validity  test  involving  human  beings  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

So  you  see  we  have  reached  a  crucial  point.  Scientists  may  be  on  the 
brink  of  success.  The  polio  fight  is  entering  its  most  important  and  ex- 
pensive phase. 

These  are  some  of  the  reasons  why  we  need  support  so  urgently.  We 
must  reach  all  the  people  with  the  message  of  hope  and  determination 
during  our  January  drive. 

New  Year's  Choice 

Dorothy  Boys  Kilian 

THE  recreation  hall  was  dec- 
orated just  as  gaily  as  in  oth- 
er years,  with  balloons  and 
crepe  paper  streamers  and  Japanese 
lanterns;  the  orchestra,  imported 
from  St.  Louis,  sounded  like  a  regu- 
lar name  band,  the  same  old  friends 
were  there,  whirling  around  the 
dance  floor  calling  out  holiday 
greetings  to  everyone.  In  fact,  every- 
thing about  the  New  Year's  Eve 
party  was  truly  festive,  except  the 
mood  of  Dick  and  Sally. 

They  were  sitting  out  a  number, 
and  Dick  said  earnestly,  ''Gee,  Sally, 
if  you  could  give  me  the  right  an- 
swer tonight,  it  would  be  the  hap- 
piest New  Year's  Eve  of  my  life." 

''I  know,"  Sally  answered  serious- 
ly. ''But,  Dick,  you  wouldn't  want 
me  to  promise  if  I  weren't  absolute- 
ly sure,  would  you?" 

"No,  I  guess  not,"  he  said  slowly. 
"But,  couldn't  you  possibly  manage 
to  make  up  your  mind?  After  all, 
it  isn't  exactly  a  new  problem  .... 
I've  been  proposing  to  you  at  least 
once  a  week  for  three  months." 
Dick  smiled  ruefully. 

"Fm  very  fond  of  you,  Dick,  you 
know  that,"  Sally  answered.  "It 
isn't  that,  it's  just  that  I've  always 
wanted  so  badly  to  .  .  .  ."  She  broke 
off  and  looked  down  towards  the 
orchestra  platform. 

Dick's  glance  followed  hers  and 
he  frowned.  "It's  that  singer,"  he 
groaned.  "I  knew  the  minute  the 
Clarks  introduced  you  to  her 
there'd  be  a  kick-back.  Why  on 
earth  they  had  to  have  a  career  girl 
for  a  house  guest,   I   don't  know. 

Page  32 

And  then  to  drag  her  to  the  party 
and  have  her  show  off  .  .  .  ." 

"Dick!"  Sally  protested  laugh- 
ingly, "you  can't  blame  Ellen 
Clark  for  being  proud  of  her  friend 
Madeleine.  And  it  isn't  just  hear- 
ing her  that  makes  me  hesitate.  All 
through  high  school  I  was  crazy 
about  singing,  you  know  that.  And 
then  when  Uncle  Ed  wrote  this 
Christmas  that  he'd  pay  for  lessons 
if  I  wanted  to  go  to  New  York  to 
live  with  them  for  a  few 
months  .  .  .  ." 

"But,  Sally,  if  you  go  way  off 
there,  it  might  not  be  for  just  a 
few  months.  That's  what  makes 
me  afraid.  And  I'm  interested  in 
your  voice,  too.  There  are  good 
teachers  in  St.  Louis,  and,  if  we 
married,  I'm  sure  we  could  soon 
juggle  the  budget  around  enough 
to  let  you  go  over  there  once  a 
week  or  so  for  lessons." 

^^Y^^'^^  sweet,  Dick."  Sally 
laid  a  hand  over  his.  "It's  a 
great  temptation  to  say  yes,  but  I 
keep  wondering  if  I  wouldn't  always 
regret  having  passed  up  this  offer 
of  Uncle  Ed's.  That  wouldn't  be 
good  for  either  of  us." 

"I'd  be  willing  to  take  the  chance, 
darling,"  Dick  said  quietly.  "I  have 
confidence  that  we  could  work 
things  out  all  right." 

"Let's  dance,"  Sally  said  sudden- 
ly, standing  up  and  gently  pulling 
Dick  up  beside  her.  "It's  almost 
midnight,  and  time  is  wasting." 

"All  right,  Sally,"  Dick  agreed, 
"if  that's  the  way  you  want  it." 


It  was  a  dreamy  waltz  the  orch-  Even   as    Sally   watched   with   a 

estra  was  playing,  but  Dick  and  Sal-  sympathetic   lump    in    her    throat, 

ly  couldn't  quite  fall  under  the  spell  the   orchestra    leader   noticed   her, 

of  it.    In  unhappy  silence  they  be-  too,  and  hurriedly  walked  over  to 

came  one  with  the  jostling  crowd  give  her  a  perfunctory  kiss  on  the 

of  dancers.  cheek.     Madeleine  smiled  at  him 

Suddenly,  the  musicians  broke  off  gratefully  and  then  began  to  sing, 

in  the  middle  of  a  bar,  and  then  perhaps  a  little  too  loudly,  "Should 

swung   into   the   strains   of   ''Auld  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot  .  .  .  ." 

Lang  Syne."  Then   her   voice   wavered.     She 

''Happy  New  Year,  everybody,"  stopped  singing,  and  Sally  saw  her 

the  leader  shouted  above  the  croon  turn  swiftly,  and  walk  alone  to  her 

of  the  saxophones.  dressing  room. 

The     couples     on     the     floor  The  couples  on  the  dance  floor 

stopped    dancing,    and    there    was  continued    to    move    rhythmically, 

some  hasty  reshuffling  of  partners  forgetful  of  the  singer  and  the  song, 

so   that   everyone  could  greet  the  It  had  only  been  a  moment  of 

New  Year  with  his  own  date.  time  up  there  on  the  platform,  and 

Sally    felt    Dick's    arm    tighten  probably  most  of  the  crowd  had 

around   her.     ''Happy   New  Year,  not  even  seen  it,  but  Sally  had  seen 

darling,"  he  said,  "no  matter  what  and  that  was  enough.    She  had  seen 

your  answer  is."  the  face  of  loneliness. 

"The   same  to  you,  Dick,"  she  From  outside  came  the  sound  of 

answered,  squeezing  his  hand  tight,  whistles  blowing,  cars  honking,  bells 

Then,  as  she  laid  her  head  against  ringing  to  add  to  the  din  of  the 

his  shoulder,  she  saw  Madeleine,  the  music  and  laughter  within, 

guest    star,    Madeleine    the    rising  Sally  had  almost  to  shout,  to  be 

young  singer,  who  stood  all  alone  sure  Dick  heard.    "I  know  the  an- 

in   front  of  the  orchestra,   staring  swer  now,  darling,"  she  said,  "and 

out  into  space  with  a  fixed  smile  it's  the  one  that  will  make  a  very 

on  her  pretty  face.  happy  New  Year  for  both  of  us." 

JCittle   QiV/  [Before  the  [Piano 

Mabel  /ones  Gahhoit 

She  sits  forlorn  before  the  keys, 

Such  tiny  fingers  for  melodies; 

Idly  she  plucks  an  ivory  tone, 

Who  wants  to  be  here  all  alone? 

Outside  the  sun  is  round  and  high, 

A  bright  blue  day  in  a  gold-filled  sky; 

Down  by  the  brook  in  the  cool  green  clover, 

The  girls  are  telling  their  secrets  over; 

Her  shoulders  droop,  one  two,  one  two, 

Walking  the  scales,  as  she  should  not  do; 

An  hour's  practice  is  dreadful  long 

When  the  world  is  calling  its  wild  sweet  song. 

Sixtyi    Ljears  Kyigo 

Excerpts  From  the  Woman's  Exponent,  January  i,  and  January  15,  1894 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

A  HAPPY  NEW  YEAR  is  the  salutation  that  greets  old  and  young  at  the  pres- 
ent time,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  hear  the  cheerful  tones  repeating  the  hopeful  words 
that  never  grow  old,  but  each  year  brings  them  back  fresh  and  crisp  as  ever.  The 
new  year  comes  full  of  hopefulness  from  all  for  better  days,  and  yet  the  last  dear  old 
year  brought  with  it  many  blessings  ....  If  we  as  a  people  should  enumerate  the 
blessings  of  the  year  that  is  now  numbered  with  the  past,  we  should  find  much  to 
rejoice  over  ....  If  some  extra  exertion  is  necessary  that  the  poor  and  unfortunate 
may  have  food  and  raiment  during  the  winter,  it  will  bring  into  active  exercise  the 
kindly  and  generous  feelings  and  sentiments  of  those  who  minister  to  the  needy,  and 
every  blessing  bestowed  will  enrich  the  giver.  — E.B.W. 

HOLIDAYS:  It  is  good  to  observe  these  days  set  apart  for  love  and  friendship, 
for  this  age  is  so  eminently  practical  that  without  some  such  observances,  social  and 
family  hfe  would  lose  much  of  its  tenderness  and  sweetness.  The  reunion  around  the 
festive  board,  and  better  still  the  gatherings  at  eventide  by  the  hearthstone  at  home, 
awaken  the  most  affectionate  recollections,  or  call  forth  the  simple  tales  one  loves  to 
hear  repeated  of  the  former  days,  of  the  daily  labor,  or  of  adventure  by  land  and  sea, 
or  the  old  songs,  pleasant  games,  or  work,  or  pastime.  — Selected 


(Containing  news  of  the  bill  bestowing  full  suffrage  upon  women  passed  by  both 
houses  of  Legislature  and  signed  by  the  Governor.) 

I  was  down  on  the  beach  this  morning. 

Walked  alone  by  the  sounding  sea. 
And  from  the  wild  waves  in  their  sobbing, 

A  message  was  wafted  to  me  ...  . 

Oh  glorious  message!  most  welcome; 

A  forecast  of  vision  sublime. 
Of  a  full  free  emancipation 

At  last  of  all  nations  and  climes. 

— L.  M.  Hewlings,  Chicago,  October  1893 

PARTY  AT  SANDY:  A  very  pleasant  party  met  at  the  Wardhouse,  in  honor  of 
our  President  of  the  Relief  Society  Mrs.  W.  Olsen,  before  her  leaving  to  visit  rela- 
tives in  Grantsville  ....  A  purse  was  presented  to  her  with  a  sum  over  $20.00  given 
by  the  society  members.  She  felt  very  happy  for  the  honor  bestowed  upon  her.  The 
evening  was  well  spent  in  speeches  and  dancing.  Refreshments  consisting  of  many 
delicacies  were  served  .  .  .  and  a  general  good  feeling  animated  all. 

— Hilda  Larsen,  Secretary. 

A  MAP  MADE  OF  SILK:  The  historical  silk  map  of  the  United  States  which 
was  made  by  Kate  D.  Barron  Buck  of  this  City  (Salt  Lake  City)  which  received 
merited  praise  and  took  a  medal,  when  exhibited  in  the  Woman's  Building  at  the 
World's  Fair,  has  been  photographed  and  we  have  received  a  complimentary  copy  .... 
The  map  is  made  of  silk  from  the  dresses  of  the  wives  of  the  respective  Governors  of 
the  several  States  and  Territories.  The  District  of  Columbia  is  a  piece  presented  by 
the  late  Mrs.  Harrison  of  the  White  House.  — Editorial  notes. 

Page  34 

Woman's  Sphere 

Ramona  W.  Cannon 

JTING  PAUL  and  Queen  Frede- 
rika  of  Greece  aroused  the  high- 
est enthusiasm  during  their  brief 
visit  to  America.  Both  glamorous 
in  appearance,  they  are  still  ro- 
mantically in  love.  Their  warmth, 
informality,  and  personal  charm  cap- 
tivated people,  but  underneath  all 
this  Queen  Frederika  is  one  of  the 
most  admired  and  respected  women 
in  the  world  today.  German  by 
birth,  cosmopolitan  by  education, 
speaking  English  with  an  American 
accent,  because  she  attended  an 
American  school  in  Italy,  she  has 
given  a  love  and  intelligence  to  her 
adopted  people  that  rarely  have 
been  seen  in  royalty.  In  Greece 
she  has  visited  almost  inaccessible 
mountain  communities  where  no 
monarch  ever  ventured  before,  to 
see  and  know  the  many  heartbreak- 
ing problems  of  the  people,  and 
then  to  act  with  unremitting  labor 
to  help  them.  She  sets  a  personal 
example  of  thrift  and  self-sacrifice. 

pVERY  year  about  28,000  fatal 
accidents  occur  in  United  States 

npHE  young  are  constantly  surpris- 
ing us.  Last  spring  thirteen- 
year-old  Manya  Baumbacher,  from 
Utah,  skied  into  seventh  place  in 
the  national  women's  giant  slalom. 
(Rhona  Wurteli  Gillis,  of  Boise, 
won  the  championship.)  Mary  Ann 
Mitchell,  fourteen,  of  San  Leandro, 
California,   has   won   sixty-five  im- 

portant trophies  in  tennis  matches 
and  is  considered  a  real  threat  to 
Little  Mo  (Maureen  Connolly) 
who,  at  sixteen,  won  the  national 
women's  championship  in  1951.  At 
present  Mary  Ann  is  ahead  of  Little 
Mo's  timetable.  She  is  an  ac- 
complished pianist  and  makes  many 
of  her  own  dresses.  Judy  Marks,  of 
Chicago,  only  thirteen,  ranks  as  one 
of  America's  top  horsewomen.  She 
has  won  128  first  prizes  at  Ameri- 
can horse  shows  and  one  interna- 
tional award. 

r\R.  BULA  WILLIAMS,  psychol- 
ogist and  counselor,  and  mother 
of  cinema  and  swimming  star 
Esther  Williams,  lived  in  Salt  Lake 
City  for  ten  years  after  marriage. 
Since  turning  sixty,  she  has  received 
her  Master's  Degree,  Ph.D.,  and 

"IITE  extend  best  wishes  and  birth- 
day congratulations  to  Mrs. 
Isaac  (Mary  M.)  Jacob  of  Los  An- 
geles, California,  formerly  of  Utah, 
ninety-five;  Mrs.  Janet  McMurrin 
Evans,  ninety-one.  Salt  Lake  City; 
and  Mrs.  Matthew  T.  (Mary  J.) 
Bell,  ninety.  Salt  Lake  City. 

AT  the  Jacob's  Pillow  Dance 
Festival  in  the  Berkshires,  Mass- 
achusetts (where  Virginia  Tanner's 
young  L.D.S.  group  thrilled  audi- 
ences last  September),  Ruth  St. 
Dennis  gave  a  remarkable  perform- 
ance. At  seventy-three,  she  repeat- 
ed some  of  the  most  difficult  danc- 
es of  her  career  with  remarkable 
grace  and  spirit. 

Page  35 


VOL.  41 

JANUARY  1954 

NO.  1 

Jx  uiappier  JLife  in  the    flew    L/i 

npHE  advent  of  a  new  year  turns 
one's  mind  to  his  mistakes  of 
the  past  year,  and  seems  to  nourish 
in  the  heart  a  resolution  to  fill  the 
days  that  lie  ahead  with  thoughts 
and  actions  which  will  conform  in 
a  closer  pattern  to  that  set  by  the 
Master  in  mortality. 

As  one  sits  alone  in  review,  reflec- 
tion, and  judgment  over  his  faults 
and  failings,  there  comes,  as  each 
succeeding  year  passes,  a  deeper 
realization  and  a  firmer  conviction 
that  only  as  one  keeps  the  two  great 
commandments,  to  love  the  Lord 
with  all  one's  might,  mind,  and 
strength,  and  one's  neighbor  as 
oneself,  can  one  become  perfect  as 
his  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect. 

Because  the  whole  world  is  made 
up  of  neighbors— of  individual  fami- 
lies—the commandment  to  love 
one's  neighbor  has  universal  applica- 
tion. To  love  one's  neighbor,  how- 
ever, does  not  mean  to  love  the  un- 
fortunate neighbor  residing  miles 
or  thousands  of  miles  away,  and 
ignoring  or  disliking  the  next-door 

Means  of  fostering  love  for  one's 
next-door  neighbor  is  found  in  the 
ward  unit  which  the  Lord  has  set 
up.  So  long  as  there  are  poor,  dis- 
tressed, discouraged,  and  sorrowful 


members  within  the  confines  of 
one's  own  ward,  there  is  a  responsi- 
bility to  show  love  of  neighbor  to 
them.  Then,  after  having  thus 
shown  forth  love  for  one's  near 
neighbor,  a  general  love  expressed 
for  mankind  has  real  meaning. 

Of  first  importance  in  obeying 
and  living  the  second  command- 
ment is  love  of  one's  own  family. 
"Charity  begins  at  home"  is  in  line 
with  the  assertion  of  Timothy: 
''But  if  any  provide  not  for  his  own, 
and  specially  for  those  of  his  own 
house,  he  hath  denied  the  faith  and 
is  worse  than  an  infidel"  (I  Tim- 
othy 5:8).  It  is  imperative  that  con- 
sideration, appreciation,  understand- 
ing, helpfulness,  and  love  flow 
around  the  family  circle  which  will 
endure  for  time  and  eternity.  A 
woman  who  pours  forth  devotion 
and  care  on  neighbors,  while  ne- 
glecting her  own  sister,  is  desregard- 
ing  a  vital  part  of  the  second  com- 

The  person  who  would  overcome 
envy,  greed,  jealousy,  selfishness,  in- 
sincerity or  more  serious  sins,  will 
find  their  cure  and  a  happier  life  in 
the  new  year  through  learning  bet- 
ter to  love  his  neighbors  as  himself. 
So  the  Master  commanded  all  men, 
so  may  men  become  perfect. 


Page  36 


iKelief  Society  Assigned  (bvening    llieeting  of 
Q/ast  Sunday  in    lliarch 

'T'HE  Sunday  night  meeting  to  be  held  on  Fast  Day,  March  7,  1954,  has 
again  been  assigned  by  the  First  Presidency  for  use  by  the  Rehef  So- 

Suggestive  plans  for  this  evening  meeting  have  been  prepared  by  the 
general  board  and  sent  to  the  stakes  in  bulletin  form. 

It  is  suggested  that  ward  Relief  Society  presidents  confer  with  their 
bishops  immediately  to  arrange  for  this  meeting.  Music  for  the  Singing 
Mothers  should  be  ordered  at  once. 

iuouna    Volumes  of  ig^S  irielief  Society    1 1  Lagazines 

OELIEF  Society  officers  and  members  who  wish  to  have  their  1953  issues 
of  The  ReJiei  Society  Magazine  bound  may  do  so  through  the  office  of 
the  general  board,  40  North  Main  Street,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah.  The  cost 
for  binding  the  twelve  issues  in  a  permanent  cloth  binding  is  $2.50,  includ- 
ing the  index.  If  the  leather  binding  is  preferred  the  cost  is  $3.50. 
If  bound  volumes  are  requested  and  the  Magazines  for  binding  are  not 
supplied  by  the  person  making  the  request,  the  charge  for  furnishing  the 
Magazine  will  be  $1.50,  which  will  be  added  to  the  cost  of  binding,  thus 
making  the  total  cost  for  cloth-bound  volumes  $4.00,  and  for  leather- 
bound  volumes  $5.00.  Only  a  limited  number  of  Magazines  are  available 
for  binding. 

It  is  suggested  that  wards  and  stakes  have  one  volume  of  the  1953 
Magazines  bound  for  preservation  in  ward  and  stake  Relief  Society  libraries. 

Jxwara  Suvscriptions  [Presented  in  J/ipril 

nPHE  award  subscriptions  presented  to  Magazine  representatives  for  hav- 
ing  obtained  75  per  cent  or  more  subscriptions  to  the  Magazine  in  re- 
lation to  their  enrolled  Relief  Society  members,  are  not  awarded  until  after 
the  stake  Magazine  representatives'  annual  reports  have  been  audited. 
Award  cards  for  these  subscriptions  for  the  year  1953  will  be  mailed  to 
ward  and  stake  Magazine  representatives  about  April  1,  1954. 

Page  37 

Moon  Music 

Louise  Morris  KeJIey 

For  it  must  needs  be,  that  there  is  an  opposition  in  all  things.  If  not  so,  my 
first-born  in  the  wilderness,  righteousness  could  not  be  brought  to  pass,  neither  wicked- 
ness, neither  holiness  nor  misery,  neither  good  nor  bad.  Wherefore,  all  things  must 
needs  be  a  compound  in  one  ...  (2  Nephi  2:11). 

FRANKIE  was  five  years  old, 
and  he  was  not  happy.  We 
had  hoped  he  was  beginning 
to  be,  now  that  the  lonely  years 
were  past  .  .  .  the  days  and  years  of 
moving  from  one  temporary  home 
to  another— with  his  father  in  the 
service  and  his  mother  worried  and 

Now  his  family  was  complete 
and  solid,  like  a  jigsaw  puzzle  with 
the  center  piece  found.  Now  he  be- 
longed to  a  family,  and  Frankie  had 
a  kindergarten  class  of  two  dozen 
potential  friends.  Now  surely,  he 
should  be  happy. 

"Mrs.  Brown,  we're  so  pleased 
with  the  progress  Frankie  is  mak- 
ing,'' I  told  his  teacher  when  she 
called  me  in  for  a  conference.  ''He 
seems  to  be  much  better  adjusted 

''He  seems  to  be,"  replied  the 
teacher.  "What,  especially,  have 
you  noticed?" 

"Well,  his  friends  at  school,"  I 
answered,  puzzled  by  her  reserve. 
"He  comes  home  nearly  every  day 
with  a  story  to  tell  about  his  little 
friends— how  Barry  chose  him  first 
in  a  game,  or  Mickey  shared  his 
licorice.  The  day  he  brought  home 
an  airplane  Brian  gave  him  he  was 
simply  bubbling." 

She  studied  her  pencil  for  a  mo- 
ment. "I'm  sorry,  truly  sorry.  He 
is  still  hanging  back,  still  on  the 

Page  38 

fringe— or  farther  out.  Brian  lost 
his  plane  on  the  playground  last 

I  was  stunned.  "What  more  can 
we  do?"  I  pleaded. 

"If  he  had  one  friend,  a  real,  true 
friend  in  the  group,  that  friend 
could  draw  him  in."  Mrs.  Brown 
shut  her  desk  drawer  and  picked  up 
her  handbag.  "I'm  doing  what  I 
can,  but  no  combination  has  taken 
yet.  Perhaps  you  can  find  the  one 

How  was  it  that  Jimmy  became 
the  one?  Perhaps  because  the  first 
day  I  visited  school,  he  was  the 
only  boy  besides  Frankie  who  was 
wearing  bib  overalls.  (I  made  a 
mental  memo:  Buy  jeans  and  cords 
like  the  others  wear.)  Perhaps  be- 
cause he  lived  just  around  the  cor- 
ner. (Another  memo:  Make  cookies 
tomorrow  and  invite  Jimmy  in  on 
his  way  home  from  school.) 

We  brought  Jimmy  in  slowly, 
subtly,  patiently,  as  a  fisherman 
lures  a  wary  trout.  Some  of  our 
casts  snagged.  When  the  movie 
"Destination  Moon"  came  to  town, 
we  invited  Jimmy  to  accompany  us. 
We  hoped  for  popcorn  passed  back 
and  forth,  exchange  of  comments, 
and  delighted  nudgings.  Jimmy  co- 
operated, but  Frankie  sat  transfixed. 
Friend  and  family  were  forgotten  in 
the  wonder  of  the  rocket's  flight 
through  uncharted  space.  His  ears 



were  deaf  to  everything  but  the  dia- 
logue and  the  crescendo-diminuen- 
do of  the  background  music.  We 
chalked  up  an  '*S"  in  science  and 
a  ''U"  in  social  relations  and  forgot 

CEVERAL  weeks  later  I  was 
spending  the  early  afternoon  de- 
vising ways  to  make  my  little  coiled 
spring  unwind  enough  for  a  nap. 
I  tuned  in  on  a  radio  classics  hour, 
hoping  for  some  soft  music.  They 
were  playing  a  favorite  symphony, 
sometimes  soft,  of  course,  but  often 
triple  fortissimo.  It  became  too 
loud  for  a  lullaby,  and  Frankie 
called  to  me  from  his  bedroom. 

'Is  that  'trip  to  the  moon'  mu- 

''It's  called  symphony  music— a 
form  of  classical  music,"  I  ex- 
plained. "Now,  how  about  that 

Ignoring  my  question,  he  said, 
"It  sounds  like  'trip  to  the  moon.'  " 

"All  right,  we'll  call  it  'trip  to  the 
moon'  music." 

"Do  you  like  it,  Mommy?" 

"Very  much." 

"Then  why  do  you  keep  turning 
it  off?" 

"I  haven't  turned  it  off,"  I  said. 
"Sometimes  it's  very  loud  and  some- 
times it  is  soft  and  whispery.  Then 
it  gets  loud  again." 

"Why  is  it  that  way?" 

I  replied,  "Because  it  sounds  bet- 
ter if  it's  not  all  the  same." 

"Why  does  it  sound  better?" 

"Well,  it's  more  interesting.  You 
like  ice  cream,  but  if  all  the  food 
that  you  ate  tasted  like  ice  cream 
you'd  get  tired  of  eating.  Your  taste- 
buds  like  a  little  food  that's  spicy, 
or  sour,  and  a  little  that's  smooth, 

or  sweet,  or  syrupy,  and  lots  of  food 
that's  in-between.  But  all  different. 
The  best  music  often  has  some 
parts  thunder-loud  and  some  parts 
mist-soft  and  some  parts  in-be- 
tween. Now  you're  just  trying  to 
postpone  your  nap.  No  more  ques- 

But  there  came  a  knock  at  the 
door— Jimmy.  So,  after  spending 
nearly  an  hour  getting  Frankie 
down  for  a  nap,  I  let  him  get  up  to 
play  after  all.  The  friendship  proj- 
ect was  more  important. 

I  waited  through  supper  for  him 
to  make  some  comment  about  Jim- 
my, so  we  could  tell  how  it  was 
coming,  but  he  hardly  said  a  word 
about  anything.  He  was  watching 
every  mouthful  of  food  his  father 
ate— as  if  eating  were  some  strange 

Finally  he  said,  looking  earnestly 
into  Daddy's  face,  "It's  not  good  if 
it's  all  the  same." 

"Huh?"  was  the  surprised  re- 

"It's  not  good  if  it's  all  the  same. 
Daddy,"  he  repeated. 

Puzzled,  Daddy  turned  to  me  for 
an  explanation,  then  searched 
Frankie's  face  for  a  clue  of  what 
this  might  be  about.  Finding  none, 
he  agreed  absent-mindedly,  "All 
right.  It's  not  good  if  it's  all  the 
same"  and  resumed  his  meal. 

I  explained  later. 

"I  wish  I  understood  that  boy 
better,"  Daddy  said.  "I  feel  like  I'm 
failing  him  when  he  needs  me 

"I  know.  We've  lost  the  most 
precious,  the  most  plastic  years. 
Now  we  have  to  hurry.  There's  so 
little  time  to  help  him  before  it's 
too  late." 



''And  yet  we  musn't  do  the  wrong 

"No/'  I  agreed.  "If  only  we 
could  help  him  not  to  be  unhappy 
about  so  many  things,  then,  maybe, 
after  that  he  could  learn  how  to  be 

''He  has  security  now,"  my  hus- 
band said.  "He  knows  we  both  love 

"But  he  still  doesn't  have  within 
himself  whatever  it  takes  to  meet 
disappointments  and  keep  going." 

"Maybe  after  awhile,"  Daddy 
said  hopefully. 

AFTER  awhile  the  stories  of 
school  pals  stopped,  and  Frank- 
ie  hated  to  go  to  school.  The  kin- 
dergarten was  a  modern  wonder- 
land, with  floor-to-ceiling  windows, 
a  playhouse,  carpenter's  bench,  slip- 
pery slide,  a  jungle  gym,  fireplace, 
aquarium,  painting  easels,  and  cup- 
boards full  of  toys.  Yet  he  hung 
back  as  if  he  were  a  frontier  youth 
on  his  way  to  "Master  Hickory." 

Then  one  night  it  all  came  out. 
I  was  checking  to  see  if  the  "bair- 
nies  were  a'cuddled  doon."  Frankie 
was  asleep,  with  his  face  in  the  pil- 
low. As  I  tiptoed  out  I  caught  a 
stifled  sound— a  sob.  His  pillow 
was  sponge-wet  with  tears.  His  lit- 
tle shoulders  were  shaking  now  in 
an  effort  to  keep  the  sobs  from  my 

Instantly  he  was  in  my  arms,  ab- 
sorbing that  remedy  known  to 
mothers  before  medicine  existed. 
Finally  the  sobs  quieted,  but  still 
he  clung  to  me,  trembling. 

"Is  it  school?"  I  inquired. 

He  nodded. 

"But  you  have  a  friend  at  school 
now.    Doesn't  Jimmy  help  you  play 

with  toys,  and  paint  and  build?" 

"Jimmy  isn't  my  friend  at  school. 
When  he  comes  here  he  acts  like 
a  friend,"  he  continued,  "but  at 
school  he  doesn't  even  like  me.  He's 
on  Bill's  gang,  and  they  don't  want 
me  on  their  gang,  and  if  Bill  says 
to  Jimmy  to  beat  me  up  then  Jim- 
my does  it."  Then  wistfully,  "But 
Jimmy  likes  me  some  when  Bill 
isn't  there." 

He  waited  for  help,  watching  my 

As  I  struggled  to  find  the  com- 
forting advice,  the  soothing  words, 
he  stared  intently  at  me,  trying  to 
read  them  in  my  eyes.  Failing,  he 
restated  his  problem:  "Only  some- 
times he's  my  friend,  and  sometimes 
he  hits  me." 

The  words  echoed  and  re-echoed. 
What  can  a  mother  say  when  she 
has  not  for  herself  the  answer? 

And  so  I  prayed,  silently,  holding 
Frankie's  hand,  but  encompassed  by 
silence,  "Oh,  give  me  wisdom. 
Please,  Father,  let  me  know  what 
to  say." 

I  waited  then,  feeling  comforted, 
watching  the  dusk  deepen  in  the 
room,  feeling  fully  a  mother's  love, 
a  mother's  responsibility. 

But  it  was  the  child  who  said  it, 
almost  shouted  it,  in  surprised  dis- 
covery. "It's  like  the  music/" 

Even  then  I  was  lost,  groping. 

"What  music,  son?" 

"  Trip  to  the  moon'  music!  Loud 
and  then  soft.  Sometimes  friends 
like  you  and  sometimes  they  hit 
you.  It  can't  be  all  the  same."  His 
face  brightened.  "It's  that  way  with 
everything,  isn't  it.  Mommy?" 

Thus  wisdom  had  come  .  .  .  and 
understanding  and  comfort.  Frank- 


ie's  own  thoughts  had  been  guided, 
directed.  They  had  found  a  clear 

Nestling  down  in  his  bed  again 
and  smiling  now,  he  said,  'It's  bet- 
ter that  way,  I  guess." 

'Tes,  it's  better.  Soon  you'll  have 
good  friends,  and  you'll  enjoy  them 
all  the  more  because  you'll  remem- 
ber how  unhappy  you  were  to- 


''And  if  I'm  unhappy  again,"  he 
said  sleepily,  "I'll  know  it  will  get 
different.  Like  the  music.  That 
'trip  ...  to  the  .  .  .  moon'  .  .  .  mu- 
sic ..  .  ." 

He  was  asleep.  I  sat  by  his  bed 
remembering  words  of  inspiration 
and  understanding,  seeing  a  light 
in  the  dusk-shadowed  room,  "For 
it  needs  must  be,  that  there  is  an 
opposition  in  all  things  .  .  .  ." 

///i/   (^aiendar 

Elsie  Sim  Hansen 

'Today  is  the  beginning  of  a  new  month,  Mother,  please  may  I  turn  the  page 
on  the  calendar?"  my  young  daughter  asked  as  she  climbed  up  on  the  kitchen  stool  to 
reach  the  calendar  hanging  on  the  wall. 

The  eagerness  in  her  young  voice  startled  me  for  a  moment  as  I  said  in  sur- 
prise, "Of  course  you  may,  dear,  but  why  get  so  excited  about  it?" 

She  stood  poised  on  the  top  of  the  stool  like  a  young  bird  ready  for  flight,  watch- 
ing me  place  the  last  tray  of  a  batch  of  cookies  in  the  oven  before  she  replied,  and 
then  she  said,  "It's  lots  of  fun.  Mother.  See,  if  I  shut  my  eyes  tight  while  I  turn  over 
the  page,  when  I  open  them  again  the  old  month  is  gone,  and  there  is  a  new  pretty 
picture  to  look  at,  and  the  page  is  all  covered  with  clean,  shiny  new  days." 

A  few  minutes  later  Shirley  went  outside  to  play,  but  what  she  had  said  con- 
tinued to  linger  in  my  thoughts.  Then  I  asked  myself  this  question:  What  kind  of 
picture  did  I  see  as  I  turned  the  pages  each  month?  Was  the  picture  before  me 
all  I  had  hoped  it  would  be?  Was  it  full  of  faith,  hope,  and  enthusiasm  for  a  happy 
future,  like  the  smiling  face  of  the  lovely  young  girl  that  Shirley  had  seen  as  she 
opened  her  eyes?  Was  the  new  page  in  front  of  me  to  be  full  of  shiny  new  days, 
each  one  regarded  as  a  precious  piece  of  clay  to  be  moulded  by  my  hands,  thoughts, 
and  actions  into  years  filled  with  joy  and  satisfaction?  If  not,  then  perhaps  it  was 
time  that  I  accepted  the  challenge  that  was  before  me. 

True,  I  could  not  expect  to  shut  my  eyes  completely  to  the  past,  as  Shirley  had 
done.  I  wouldn't  even  want  to,  for  I  would  need  the  strength  and  wisdom  I  had 
gained  from  traveling  the  hills  and  paths  in  the  picture  of  my  past  to  broaden  my 
future  vision. 

There  might  be  many  times  in  the  years  ahead  when  I  might  falter,  when  it 
would  take  more  courage  than  I  would  think  I  possessed  to  close  my  eyes  to  the 
thorns  of  regrets  and  the  weeds  of  mistakes  that  would  try  to  grow  into  my  picture 
and  hover  like  dark  clouds  to  dim  the  days  and  blot  out  my  view  temporarily,  but 
only  temporarily,  if  I  willed  it  so.  For  always  before  me  to  lend  a  helping  hand  would 
be  the  tools  my  Heavenly  Father  had  so  generously  provided  for  me,  the  tools  of 
prayer,  faith,  and  an  unselfish  desire  to  be  of  service  to  others,  which,  if  used  properly, 
would  give  me  new  strength,  new  ambition,  and  new  opportunities,  each  day,  each 
month,  each  year,  until  my  calendar  of  life  would  be  completed. 

The  Deeper  Melody 

Chapter  4 
Alice  Money  Bailey 

Synopsis:  Steven  Thorpe,  a  widower 
with  three  small  children,  is  grateful  to 
Margaret  Grain,  a  registered  nurse,  for 
taking  care  of  his  baby  during  an  attack 
of  pneumonia.  Margaret's  mother  is  act- 
ing temporarily  as  Steven's  housekeeper, 
while  making  plans  for  her  daughter's  ap- 
proaching marriage  to  Dr.  Rex  Harmon. 
In  the  meantime,  Steven  wins  back  the 
Kettle  Creek  contract  and  is  reinstated  in 
his  job. 

4  4-|VTONSENSE!"  said  Steve. 
^  'Tou're  just  hysterical,  J. 
T.,  on  getting  this  con- 
tract. You  don't  have  to  leave  me 
the  business  to  get  me  back  into 
the  company.  Fd  come  under  any 

"Fm  not  hysterical,  and  this  is  no 
snap  decision.  Fve  been  watching 
you  for  years,  as  well  as  a  dozen 
other  young  men.  Kettle  Creek  has 
been  a  sort  of  testing  ground  with 
me  ever  since  I  failed  to  sell  them 
ten  years  ago.  I  knew  then  that  the 
man  who  could  would  be  a  better 
man  than  L  Nobody  has  succeeded, 
but  I  was  most  disappointed  when 
you  failed." 

''Don't  give  me  too  much  credit 
for  getting  back  up  there  and  sell- 
ing the  contract.  I  was  thinking 
about  it,  Fll  admit,  but  it  seemed 
too  crazy  until  Phyllis'  nurse  got  the 
same  idea.  She's  a  pretty  level  sort 
of  person,  and  .  .  .  ." 

"Phyllis'  nurse?  You  think  she's 
wonderful  don't  you?  Is  she 
young?  Is  she  pretty?  Is  she 

"All  three,"  laughed  Steve. 
Page  42 

"You'd  better  marry  that  girl. 
Don't  let  her  get  away  from  you." 

"She's  engaged.  She's  wearing  a 
diamond  as  big  as  your  fist." 

"Buy  her  a  bigger  one.  Go  to, 
and  cut  him  out." 

"You  surely  must  want  me  mar- 
ried, J.  T.  You've  never  seen  the 
girl.  You  don't  know  anything 
about  her." 

"I  know  what  you've  told  me 
about  her— she  got  your  baby  well. 
She  gave  you  the  right  kind  of  ad- 
vice and  support.  I  told  you  Fve 
been  watching  you  for  years."  He 
broke  off  to  go  to  his  files  and  get 
a  brochure. 

To  Steve's  astonishment,  it  con- 
tained nothing  but  information 
about  him,  his  sales  record,  his  mar- 
riage, the  birth  of  his  babies,  Ellen's 
death,  the  letters  he  had  written  the 
company  when  he  was  sales  man- 
ager of  a  district  near  Craig— all  of 
it  was  there. 

"I  was  pretty  sure  about  you  a 
long  time  ago,  Steve.  I  took  a  lik- 
ing to  you  the  first  time  I  saw  you, 
when  you  were  the  greenest  sales- 
man I  had,  just  fresh  out  of  col- 
lege with  a  degree  in  business.  It 
intrigued  me  that  a  fellow  with 
your  marks  didn't  hit  for  at  least  a 
managership  in  some  department 
store.  Why  did  you  do  it,  boy? 
I've  always  been  curious." 

"It's  a  long  story,  and  it  wasn't 
snap  judgment.  I'm  crazy  about 
machinery.  I  worked  in  a  mill  when 
I  went  to  college,  and  I  was  ap- 
palled at  the  waste  of  inefficient 


machinery— the  world's  treasures 
spread  out  in  sand  dumps  all  over 
the  world.  That's  where  Pikes 
Peak  came  in.  Your  machinery  has 
the  most  perfect  recovery  of  any. 
You  have  always  been  a  hero  to  me, 
J.  T.,  a  sort  of  Horatio  Alger  of  the 
machine  world.  Take  a  machine 
job  that  was  impossible  to  anyone 
else  and  you  could  do  it.  Selling 
your  machmery  was  more  than  a 
job  with  me.    It  was  a  crusade." 

'Then  you  wonder  why  I  want 
you  in  this  with  me,  Steve.  It  was 
inevitable  that  we  should  get  to- 
gether. But  I  want  you  to  get  mar- 
ried—to the  right  girl.  Your  wife 
was  the  right  kind.  I  had  the  right 
kind  of  wife,  or  there  would  be  no 
PPMM  today,  however,  I  never 
found  the  right  one  to  take  her 
place,  so  now  I  have  no  sons  to 
carry  on  the  business.  And  it  is 
still  a  baby  business.  I  want  our 
own  foundries,  our  own  supply 
sources.  I  won't  live  to  see  it, 
Steve,  but  it  is  something  for  you 
to  shoot  at." 

'T^HE  partnership  papers  were  be- 
ing drawn  up  when  Steve  went 
home.  He  was  alternately  giddy 
with  the  thought  of  his  new  posi- 
tion and  sobered  by  his  sense  of  in- 
adequacy for  the  responsibilities  it 
would  bring.  It  was  a  wonderful 
homecoming— the  first  in  a  long 
time  not  accompanied  by  fear  and 
dread  of  what  he  would  find.  Davey 
and  Ilene  squealed  their  delight, 
both  chattering  all  their  day's  do- 
ings at  once,  and  trotted  after  him 
to  Phyllis'  room.  Even  Mrs.  Grain 
left  her  biscuit  making  and  brought 
up  the  rear.  One  glance  at  Phyllis 
crowned  his  day.  She  looked  per- 
fectly well. 


When  it  came  to  Margaret  he 
found  it  difficult  to  meet  her  eyes, 
in  the  light  of  his  recent  thoughts 
and  J.  T's  forthright  conversation. 
When,  at  length,  he  did,  she  was 
searching  his  face  with  question. 

''Was  it  a  good  trip?"  she  asked. 

"I  feel  like  a  conquering  hero," 
he  confirmed. 

She  nodded.  "You  look  like  one. 
Kettle  Creek  came  through  all  right, 
I  take  it." 

"Yes,  and  you  are  now  gazing  on 
a  brand  new  PPMMC  vice-presi- 

His  own  flesh  and  blood  could 
not  have  been  more  delighted.  Mrs. 
Grain  bustled  to  the  kitchen  to  put 
party  trimmings  on  an  already  su- 
perb dinner.  Later  he  found  oppor- 
tunity to  talk  to  Margaret. 

"I  haven't  the  foggiest  notion 
how  to  thank  you,"  he  told  her. 
"You  are  certainly  my  good  angel. 
Except  for  you  none  of  these  mir- 
acles would  have  happened— Phyl- 
lis well,  your  mother  making  my 
home  a  delight,  and  now  this— for 
you  must  know  that  one  sentence 
of  yours  marked  the  turning  point 
of  my  life." 

"What  sentence  was  that?" 

"The  one  about  me  getting  back 
that  Kettle  Creek  contract." 

"Nonsense!  You  were  already 
thinking  about  it." 

"Yes,"  admitted  Steve,  "but  you 
motivated  me  to  action." 

"It  took  more  than  that  really  to 
do  it.  I  can  see  by  your  face  how 
hard  you've  worked." 

Ah!  That  was  what  it  took  to  put 
the  crown  on  a  victory!  A  few  words 
of  praise  from  the  woman  a  man 
....  But  this  was  absurd!  Steve 
had  almost  said— in  his  mind,  to  be 
sure— the  word  loves. 



CTEVE  took  a  firm  grip  on  him- 
self and  looked  the  possibility 
squarely  in  the  face.  Grant  that  he 
could  and  did  fall  in  love  again,  as 
everyone  seemed  to  wish.  Grant 
that  he  might  fall  in  love  with  Miss 
Grain,  what  then?  Gertainly  any 
man  could  love  such  a  superb  wom- 
an, but  she  wasn't  for  just  any  man. 
She  wasn't  for  Steve,  being,  as  she 
was,  practically  married  to  another 
man— a  man  from  her  own  profes- 
sional world,  one  who  could  under- 
stand and  properly  appreciate  her, 
one  who  was  entering  marriage  for 
the  first  time,  to  whom  she  would 
be  first,  to  whom  her  children 
would  be  first.  No!  Whatever  he 
felt  it  was  certainly  to  be  killed  in 
the  root.    Steve  knew  that. 

Killing  it  was  another  matter, 
with  her  in  the  house  every  minute 
he  was  home,  across  the  table  for 
breakfast  and  dinner,  her  translu- 
cent white  cap  winged  above  her 
fine  blue  eyes,  her  immaculate  uni- 
formed slimness  moving  about  the 
room,  trailed  by  the  adoring  Davey 
and  Ilene,  her  arms  lifting  and 
cradling  his  little  Phyllis.  She  was 
just  through  the  wall  when  he  slept, 
and  wherever  she  was,  night  or  day, 
he  was  increasingly  aware  of  her 

It  was  a  miracle  to  watch  her 
with  the  other  children,  for  she  as- 
sumed the  responsibility  of  them, 
as  well  as  Phyllis.  Small  as  they 
were,  she  regarded  each  as  a  per- 
son in  his  own  right.  She  quickly 
established  a  health  routine  with 
them,  showing  them  how  to  brush 
their  teeth,  and  making  a  game  of 
everything  from  naps  to  vitamins. 
She  settled  their  baby  arguments 
with   a  clear  logic  which  satisfied 

them.  It  was  interesting  to  watch 
her  technique  for  keeping  Phyllis 
in  bed,  for  she  was  almost  recov- 

''She's  not  out  of  danger  yet," 
Steve  would  insist,  and  he  really 
meant  it.  ''Weak  as  she  is,  she 
could  catch  cold  and  start  the  whole 
thing  over." 

At  last,  however,  the  inevitable 
could  not  be  longer  postponed. 
Phyllis  was  completely  well,  and 
there  was  no  possible  excuse  for  a 
registered  nurse  to  stay  on.  The 
dreaded  day  arrived  when  the  nurse 
and  her  mother  were  to  take  their 
leave.  They  tried  in  every  way  to 
prepare  the  little  ones  for  the  event, 
and  every  preparation  was  a  failure. 

"Davey's  going,  too,"  Davey  an- 
nounced, going  to  get  his  little  suit- 
case, with  Ilene  following  suit. 
Phyllis  watched  her  nurse  with 
mingled  fear  and  apprehension 
dawning  in  her  baby  eyes,  and 
clutched  Margaret  whenever  she 
moved  so  much  as  a  foot. 

"You'll  have  to  pack  for  us  both, 
Mother,"  the  nurse  said.  "Mr. 
Thorpe,  this  is  going  to  be  the  hard- 
est thing  I  ever  tried  to  do." 

"I  know,"  said  Steve  over  the 
lump  in  his  throat,  unable  to  say 
more.  A  woman  was  coming  in  the 
morning  to  take  over— a  woman 
Steve  had  employed  because  she 
seemed  the  best  of  those  few  he 
had  to  choose  from.  She  was  mid- 
dle-aged and  looked  strong  and  had 
been  coming  to  help  for  a  day  or  so. 

'pHE  Grains  stood  with  their  coats 
on,  their  luggage  all  ready.  Steve 
was  going  to  take  the  children  along 
to  drive  them  home.  Just  as  they 
were  going  out  the  front  door,  the 
telephone  rang. 



It  was  for  Miss  Grain,  the  nurse's 
registry  calling.  The  conversation 
was  quite  long,  and  she  was  grave, 
listening,  answering  with  a  mono- 
syllable or  two.  Once  she  said: 
''Well,  you  know  I  am  getting  mar- 
ried in  June,"  and  later,  "Dr.  Har- 
mon suggested  you  call  me?  Oh, 
then,  of  course  Fll  come." 

Dr.  Harmon,  Margaret's  fiance, 
the  object  of  Steve's  burning  and 
jealous  curiosity! 

'They  want  me  to  be  temporary 
night  superintendent  of  the  hos- 
pital," she  said.  "Mother,  what  do 
you  think  of  that?" 

"It  would  give  you  shopping  time 
in  the  day.  There  are  some  ad- 
vantages, Margaret." 

"It  isn't  exactly  night  work.  It 
is  three  to  eleven.  I  told  them  I'd 
take  it.  Rex  suggested  they  call  me, 
so  it  must  fit  his  plans." 

Three  to  eleven/  The  only  time 
Steve  had  free  was  in  the  evenings. 
There  would  not  even  be  a  possi- 
bility he  could  see  Margaret  again 
before  her  wedding.  Steve's  heart 
plunged,  but  he  recognized  it  was 
probably  the  best  thing  for  him— 
hurt  as  it  might  to  have  her  go. 

"So  Dr.  Harmon  is  back?"  he 
asked  conversationally. 

"Back?"  queried  Margaret.  "Dr. 
Harmon  hasn't  been  away." 

"Oh,"  said  Steve,  and  stopped  in 
confusion.  "I  thought— well  he 
hasn't  called  you— to  my  knowledge 
—or  come  to  see  you." 

"It  isn't  proper  to  see  me  on  a 
case.  Anyhow,  he  is  a  very  busy 
man,  and  only  sees  me  twice  a  week. 
A  doctor  has  a  very  tight  schedule, 
and  must  have  his  rest." 

Steve  was  silent,  remembering  his 
own  courtship  days.  This  Rex  must 

indeed  be  a  cold  fish.  Steve  found 
he  disliked  him  already,  without 
having  seen  the  paragon.  And  a  girl 
like  Margaret!  What  was  the  man 
made  of?  Margaret  was  calm  about 
it,  and  seemed  thoroughly  awed  by 
him.  Except  for  that,  Steve  would 
certainly  do  as  J.  T.  had  suggested: 
"Try  to  cut  the  man  out." 

Yes,  it  was  better  all  round  that 
Steve  wouldn't  see  her  again. 

"Daddy!  Let's  go!"  Davy  shout- 

Steve  jumped. 

"The  bad  feature  is  that  you  will 
be  alone  all  the  time.  Mother," 
Margaret  was  saying.  "They  expect 
me  to  live  in,  but  there  is  no  pro- 
vision for  you." 

"That's  not  a  problem,"  boomed 
Steve.  "She  can  stay  on  here.  I'll 
have  Mrs.  Hall  come  in  to  do  the 
heavy  work,  and  she  can  concen- 
trate on  the  children.  How  about 
it  Mrs.  Grain?" 

"I  don't  see  why  not.  I'm  relieved 
at  not  having  to  leave  these  pre- 
cious babies." 

«  «  «  *  * 

CO  it  was  arranged.  Mrs.  Grain 
promptly  became  "Mama"  to 
the  children,  and  Margaret  was 
"Other  Mama."  As  such  she  was 
still  the  final  authority,  for  she 
called  nearly  every  day.  Steve  could 
detect  evidences  of  her  in  the  con- 
versation. "Other  Mama  says  no!" 
from  Ilene,  or  "Other  Mama 
bought  my  shoes,"  from  Davey. 

"Margaret  says  those  cowboy 
boots  you  bought  for  Davey  would 
ruin  his  feet  in  ten  days.  She  bought 
him  these  special  children's  shoes, 
and  some  gauntlet  gloves  to  win  the 



'Tell  her  Fm  grateful.  Fll  reim- 
burse her." 

'That-  will  be  fine.  She  doesn't 
expect  you  to,  but  she  does  need  all 
her  money  just  now.  Dr.  Harmon 
offered  her  money  to  help  buy  the 
trousseau,  but  of  course  she  re- 

''Nobody  ever  needs  to  be 
ashamed  of  Margaret,"  Steve  said 

"That's  what  I  think,"  agreed 
Mrs.  Grain. 

Yes,  it  was  good  she  was  gone. 
Yet  her  absence  sharpened,  rather 
than  lessened,  the  aching  longing 
Steve  had  for  her.  Why  couldn't 
his  emotions  fasten  onto  someone 
more  within  reason  of  his  reaching? 
Miss  Tate,  for  instance?  Steve  felt 
sure  she  was  inclined  toward  him, 
if  only  by  the  small,  nervous  ges- 
tures she  made  whenever  he  was 
near,  the  flustered  patting  of  her 
hair  that  annoyed  him  so  much. 
Was  there  anything  wrong  with 
her?  She  was  probably  a  very  nice 
girl,  Steve  thought,  and  she  irritat- 
ed him  only  because  he  was  so  sure 
that  if  he  should  say  to  her:  "Miss 
Tate,  will  you  marry  me?"  she 
would  comply  instantly. 

All  this,  thought  Steve,  was  just 

one  more  demonstration  of  his  sud- 
den aberration,  brought  on,  no 
doubt,  by  the  unaccustomed  ease 
the  Grains  had  brought  to  his 
household,  the  release  from  so 
much  responsibility  of  the  little 
ones,  and  influenced  by  the  desire 
of  so  many  people  that  he  get  mar- 
ried—first his  mother— then  J.  T.— 
and  even  Margaret  herself. 

Steve  pulled  himself  up  short.  No 
doubt  even  Miss  Tate  would  be 
derisive  at  his  thoughts.  He  put  his 
mind  to  more  productive  work,  but 
the  next  day  Miss  Tate  herself  con- 
firmed his  opinion,  at  least  in  part. 
She  had  brought  some  letters  in  for 
him  to  sign,  and  waited  unneces- 
sarily long.  When  he  looked  up, 
she  seemed  to  be  frightened. 

He  was  about  to  ask  if  she  were 
ill,  when  she  stammered  that  she 
had  two  tickets  to  the  symphony, 
but  no  partner,  and  wondered  if  he 
would  care  to  go  with  her.  He 
didn't  care  to,  most  definitely,  but 
he  could  see  his  refusal  would  be 
embarrassingly  painful  to  her.  Be- 
sides, his  curiosity  had  been  roused 
by  his  musings. 

"Why,  that  is  very  thoughtful  of 
you.  Miss  Tate.    Thank  you." 
{To  be  continued) 

S/  Vl/ouid   I  lot  (Have    LJou   Vl/eep 

Christie  Lund  Coles 

I  would  not  have  you  weep  when  I  am  gone, 
Nor  say,  "We  should  have  done  it  thus  or  so," 
I  shall  have  risen  to  a  fairer  dawn, 
Than  you  have  ever  seen,  and  I  shall  know 

Too  much  of  peace  to  countenance  regret. 
Too  much  of  joy  to  want  your  sorrow's  breath. 
I  only  ask  that  you  will  not  forget, 
Will  love  me  in  the  interim  called  death. 

fUelvina   yoennett  Lylark    1 1  Lakes   [Braided  LKugs 

Melvina  Bennett  Clark,  seventy-two,  of  Orem,  Utah,  still  enjoys  her  life-long 
hobby — making  braided  rugs.  She  has  made  hundreds  of  rugs  in  round  and  oval  shapes, 
and  has  e\en  tried  to  make  braided  rugs  in  the  form  of  a  square.  Her  favorite  rug  is 
one  which  she  worked  out  in  color  tones  of  blue  and  gold.  At  present  she  is  working 
on  a  rug  which  will  cover  the  floor  of  a  ten  by  twelve-foot  room.  The  only  real  ability 
required  for  making  braided  rugs,  Mrs.  Clark  says,  is  to  be  sure  to  braid  them  and  sew 
them  together  in  such  a  way  that  there  will  be  no  pulling  or  bulging,  and  the  rug  will 
lie  flat. 

The  homes  of  Mrs.  Clark's  four  children  and  those  of  many  other  relatives  and 
friends  have  been  made  beautiful  and  comfortable  by  the  lovely  braided  rugs,  the  "Hap- 
piness Hobby"  of  this  industrious  woman. 

Mrs.  Clark  loves  Relief  Society  and  the  Magazine  and  was  for  many  years  a  devoted 
visiting  teacher. 

cLove  s   iOesUn^ 

Ada  Marie  Patten 

I  used  to  think  that  love,  however  true. 
With  all  things  mortal,  had  its  temporal  day. 
As  sunset  colors  blazon  evening  skies 
Eventually  to  turn  to  cheerless  gray. 

But  now  I  know  love  passes  as  a  seed  — 
Dies  only  to  awaken  in  rebirth. 
With  new  and  brighter  growth  that  reaches  far 
And  leaves  a  richer  legacy  to  earth. 

Page  47 


Margaret  C.  Pickeiing,  General  Secretary-Treasurer 

All  material  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  "Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950,  page  278,  and 
the  Hnndhook  of  InstiuctionSy  page  123. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Lenore  G.  Merrill 


October  10,  1953 

Left  to  right:  Esther  Holder,  work  meeting  leader;  Oma  Beaver,  Work  Director 
Counselor;  Donna  Powers,  Education  Counselor;  Winnie  M.  Harmon,  President. 

Special  features  of  this  unusually  successful  bazaar  were  the  beautiful  quilt,  pil- 
low cases,  cobbler  aprons,  and  children's  wear.  A  fashion  show,  with  Relief  Society 
women  and  their  children  acting  as  models,  was  a  high  point  of  interest  in  the  even- 
ing's entertainment. 

Lenore  G.  Merrill  is  president  of  Long  Beach  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Page  48 



Photograph  submitted  by  Pearle  U.  Winkler 





Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Burdella  Terry  of  Milburn  Ward  Relief  Society; 
lone  Rigby,  Fairview  South  Ward;  Sarah  Rigby,  Fairview  South  Ward;  Nellie  Neilson, 
Fairview  North  Ward;  Elizabeth  Anderson,  Fairview  South  Ward;  Elnora  Jenkins, 
Milburn  Ward. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Alice  Nelson,  Clear  Creek  Ward  Relief  Society; 
Marcella  Graham,  Fairview  South  Ward;  Emma  Evans,  Fairview  South  Ward;  Valera 
Cheney,  Fairview  South  Ward;  Helen  Bohne,  Fairview  South  Ward;  Lucy  Tucker, 
President  of  Fairview  South  Ward  Relief  Society. 

Pearle  U.  Winkler  is  president  of  North  Sanpete  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  sul  by  Elizabeth   B.  Reiser 


Left  to  right:  Sister  Grimshaw;  Sister  Loveland,  from  Utah;  Sister  Jackson,  Second 
Counselor;  Sister  Boothroyd;  Sister  Woodruff,  President;  Sister  Townsend,  First  Coun- 
selor; Sister  Alsop,  Secretary;  Sister  Page. 

These  women  worked  diligently  to  complete  the  quilt,   under  the  direction   of 

Sister  Loveland. 

Elizabeth  B.  Reiser  is  president  of  the  British  Mission  Relief  Society. 



Photograph   submitted  by  Mabel  M.   Nalder 


August  30,  1953 

Front  row,  left  to  right:  Irene  Rowland;  Edith  Rowland;  Lena  Woods;  Gladys 
Robinson;  Nora  Manspile;  Julia  Rowland;  Ivy  Christley;  Marie  Mullins;  Dora  Ramsey. 

Second  row,  left  to  right:  Mamie  Johnson,  District  Relief  Society  President; 
Beulah  Riley;  Vernie  Clark;  Flora  Friend,  chorister;  Dessie  Robertson;  Edith  Henson; 
Tillie  Smith;  Ethel  Coleman;  Ava  Trent;  Maie  Henderson;  Ruth  Blunck. 

Back  row,  left  to  right:  Hattie  Clark;  Jane  Coleman;  Sadie  Parr;  Camilla  Row- 
land; Christine  DeBusk,  pianist;  Eula  Angel;  Fannie  Lilly;  Thora  Christley;  Virginia 
Summers;  Janie  Crosby. 

Mabel  M.  Nalder  is  president  of  the  Central  Atlantic  States  Mission  Relief  So- 

Photograph  submitted  by   Lanola   C.   Driggs 


The  Harvard  Ward  Relief  Society  has  made  a  record  of  which  they  can  well  be 
proud.  Since  March  1952,  they  have  made  a  one  hundred  per  cent  record  of  visiting 
teaching.  Every  district  has  been  covered  every  month.  The  teachers  are  very  con- 
scientious and  willing,  and  have  many  times  expressed  their  love  for  this  work.  The 
Relief  Society  presidency:  Marelda  Gottfredson,  President,  and  her  Counselors  Verna 
Hunter  and  Adele  Ernstsen,  feel  that  a  great  deal  of  missionary  work  and  the  spreading 
of  the  gospel  have  been  done  by  this  valiant  group  of  workers, 

LaNola  C.  Driggs  is  former  president  of  Liberty  Stake  Relief  Society.  The  new 
president  is  Verna  A.  Hunter. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Mavil  A.  McMurrin 



Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Minnie  Carroll;  Bernice  Black;  Second  Counselor 
Mardella  Coil;  President  Blanche  Abbott;  Secretary  Helen  Bates;  First  Counselor  Opal 

Second  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Loa  Maxwell;  Lena  Clark;  Arvilla  Clayton; 
Charlotte  Virgin;  LaPriel  Clayton. 

Third  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Alma  Irwin;  Donna  Carroll;  Leah  Edgel;  Char- 
lotte Taylor. 

Not  present  when  picture  was  taken:  Alene  Anderson,  Merlene  Anderson,  Alice 
Hollist,  Dores  Osguthorpe,  and  Arlene  Reese. 

President  Blanche  Abbott,  in  reporting  the  activities  of  this  enthusiastic  group, 
outlines  some  of  their  major  projects  over  the  last  few  years:  "We  gave  dinners  and 
had  basket  socials  ....  Our  first  major  undertaking  was  presenting  a  concert  given  by 
Estaleah  H.  Baker,  wife  of  the  then  Commanding  General  of  Ladd  Air  Force  Base. 
She  is  a  concert  singer  and  donated  all  the  proceeds  ...  to  the  building  fund.  We 
had  the  concert  at  the  Empress  Theater  ....  We  decided  each  sister  would  sew  one 
article  a  month  for  the  bazaar.  We  had  twelve  sisters  ....  We  held  all  our  meet- 
ings, even  when  it  got  to  be  fifty-six  degrees  below  zero.  The  sisters  from  College, 
five  miles  from  Fairbanks,  came  in  on  the  bus.  We  had  an  average  of  nine  present 
....  President  and  Sister  McMurrin  visited  us  to  bring  words  of  wisdom  and  love 
....  In  the  fall  of  1951  we  had  our  bazaar.  We  invited  the  people  of  the  city  to 
come  and  we  had  a  wonderful  bazaar.  Everyone  was  interested  in  what  the  'Mormons' 
could  do  ....  In  March  1952,  we  gave  a  branch  dinner  and  had  105  present,  and 
the  number  at  that  time  on  the  roll  of  the  branch  ....  In  July  1952  President  and 
Sister  McMurrin  returned  North,  bringing  with  them  Brother  and  Sister  Joseph  Field- 
ing Smith.  We  had  our  building  completed  and  ready  for  dedication  and  it  was  indeed 
a  wonderful  service  when  Brother  Smith  gave  the  dedicatoy  prayer  and  presented  our 
building  to  our  Heavenly  Father  for  his  acceptance.  God  had  indeed  blessed  the  saints 
in  this  branch  ....  No  task  is  too  large  or  too  small  for  any  sister  in  this  branch  .... 
We  send  our  love  and  pray  God's  richest  blessings  on  all  the  sisters  and  their  families 
in  this  great  organization,  the  Relief  Society." 

Mavil  A.  McMurrin  is  president  of  the  Northwestern  States  Mission  Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Virginia  R.  Vaterlaus 




Cathrine  Mumford,  stake  music  director,  who  invited  this  group  to  sing  for  stake 
quarterly  conference,  is  seated  at  the  left  on  the  first  row  of  the  left  section.  Seated 
in  the  third  row,  in  the  left  section,  are  stake  Relief  Society  officers:  Drucilla  Winters, 
Second  Counselor;  Virginia  R.  Vaterlaus,  President;  Martha  Sorenson,  First  Counselor. 
Delilah  Loveday,  chorister,  is  seated  in  the  center  of  the  first  row  in  the  right-hand 
section;  Hazel  Jacobsen,  organist,  is  seated  at  the  right  in  the  same  section. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Lena  W.  Glaus 


September  1953 

All  of  the  beautiful  aprons,  dresses,  accessories,  and  miscellaneous  items  were 
made  from  old  clothing  and  materials  by  the  faithful  and  enthusiastic  sisters  of 

Lena  W.  Glaus  is  former  president  of  the  East  German  Mission  Relief  Society. 
The  new  president  is  Ethel  E.  Gregory. 



Photograph   submitted   by   Ada   S.   VanDam 

CONVENTION  IN  HAARLEM,  September  24,  1953 

This  photograph  shows  the  Rehef  Society  sisters  singing  under  the  leadership  of 
chorister  Renstje  Vanderlinden.  Ada  S.  VanDam,  President,  Netherlands  Mission 
Relief  Society,  reports  that  every  district  in  the  mission  was  represented  on  the  pro- 
gram at  this  convention.  "This  convention,  planned  and  directed  by  Sister  Ada  S. 
VanDam,  with  the  capable  help  of  Sister  Charlotte  Green  .  .  .  and  Sister  Renstje  Van- 
derlinden and  Sister  Maria  Schippers  .  .  .  laid  the  foundation  for  a  highly  successful 
1953-54  season  of  activity,  education,  and  work  ....  After  opening  the  meeting  with 
appropriate  song  and  prayer  and  a  word  of  welcome  by  Sister  VanDam,  an  introduc- 
tion as  to  the  purpose  of  the  meeting  .  .  .  was  given  by  Sister  Vanderlinden.  This 
was  followed  by  a  talk  on  the  slogan  by  Sister  Soerilje  Koopal  from  Harlingen;  the 
theology  lessons  by  Sister  Clasina  Bredewoud  from  Utrecht;  work  meeting  by  Sister 
Siementje  Groen  from  Apeldoornl;  the  Hterature  lessons  by  Sister  Mina  Hailing,  Am- 
sterdam; social  science  lessons  by  Sister  Alida  Eijgelaar,  Rotterdam.  Various  musical 
selections  and  a  demonstrated  'Song  practice  were  included  between  these  splendid 
talks.  Then  the  outlined  programs  for  the  March  and  November  Sunday  evening 
meetings  were  ably  discussed  by  Sister  Johanna  Asscheman  from  The  Hague,  who  ap- 
peared in  a  beautiful  native  Dutch  costume,  carrying  out  the  November  message  that 
the  Relief  Society  is  a  world-wide  sisterhood.  Sister  S.  VanDerWal  from  Hilversum 
appeared  in  a  pioneer  costume  and  discussed  the  Rehef  Society  birthday  —  March  17th. 
Thereafter  Sister  Green  ably  discussed  record  keeping,  minute  books,  and  other  im- 
portant business  and  administrative  matters  ....  Attractive  gold  and  blue  programs 
listing  all  the  activities  for  the  convention  were  created  in  the  shape  of  a  Dutch  tulip 
and  were  distributed  to  all  present." 

»  ♦  ■ 

Vi/ifiter   lugnt 

Beatrice  K.  Ekman 

Unsullied  ice-blades  rim  the  kitchen  eaves 
And  lend  prismatic  flame  to  candlelight. 
Through  raveling  clouds,  a  round  moon  weaves 
A  path  of  gold  across  the  silver  night. 


cJkeologyi — Characters  and  Teachings 
of  The  Book  of  Mormon 

Lesson  23— Righteousness  and  Good  Government 

(Text:  The  Book  of  Mormon:  Mosiah  27-29) 
For  Tuesday,  April  6,  1954 
Objective:  To  explain  how  spirituality  undergirds  good  government. 


The  Just  Rule  of  King  Mosiah 
ING  Mosiah,  like  his  father  Ben- 
jamin, worked  dihgently  to  have 
his  people  attain  eternal  life.  They 
esteemed  Mosiah  more  than  any 
other  man,  for  they  felt  the  influ- 
ence of  his  great  and  good  person- 
ality. He  had  taught  them  the 
commandments  of  God,  had  la- 
bored assiduously  to  establish  peace 
in  the  land,  and  had  tried  to  eradi- 
cate contentions,  stealing,  plunder- 
ing, murder,  and  all  other  types  of 
iniquity.  He  punished  according  to 
the  law  whosoever  committed  in- 

Under  divine  guidance.  King  Mo- 
siah had  endeavored  to  govern  the 
people  in  such  a  manner  that  his 
acts  would  be  conducive  to  their 
eternal  welfare.  Recognizing  Alma 
as  a  great  spiritual  leader,  he  had 
given  him  charge  of  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal affairs  in  the  kingdom. 

Page  54 

Leadeiship  of  Alma 

Alma,  you  will  recall,  was  early 
in  his  life  one  of  the  wicked  priests 
of  King  Noah  in  the  land  of  Nephi. 
Sincerely  repenting,  he  had  grown 
to  the  full  stature  of  a  great  religious 
leader.  Having  had  to  plead  with 
God  for  a  forgiveness  of  his  own 
sins,  he  had  learned  the  need  of  for- 
giving other  repentant  sinners.  He 
could  throw  the  mantle  of  charity 
about  the  sins  of  others  and  usher 
them  back  into  the  fold  of  God. 
He  knew  the  joy  that  is  attached  to 
repentance  and  forgiveness.  He 
spent  his  life  trying  to  induce  all 
men  to  experience  those  joys. 

These  two  great  men,  workers  in 
a  common  cause  to  elevate  the 
ideals,  aspirations,  and  actions  of 
the  people  in  and  around  Zarahem- 
la,  found  many  difficulties  to  over- 



Unbelief  of  Leaders'  Sons 

Chief  among  the  obstacles  to 
righteous  hving  was  the  fact  that 
Alma's  son,  named  Alma,  and  four 
of  Mosiah's  sons,  Ammon,  Aaron, 
Omner,  and  Himni  were  numbered 
among  the  disbelievers.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  they  were  leaders  in  a 
movement  to  crush  the  work  their 
fathers  so  zealously  labored  to  ac- 

Young  ''Alma  was  a  very  wicked 
and  an  idolatrous  man."  He  was 
gifted  with  a  smooth  tongue  and 
could  use  the  language  with  a  high 
degree  of  facility.  He  flattered  the 
people  and  led  them  into  all  kinds 
of  iniquities.  He  stole  away  the 
hearts  of  the  people  from  his  father 
and  King  Mosiah. 

The  sons  of  Mosiah  were  ''the 
very  vilest  of  sinners."  They  also 
worked,  to  the  maximum  of  their 
ability,  to  destroy  the  righteous  un- 
dertakings of  their  father  and  Alma 
the  elder.  These  five  recalcitrant 
sons  were  busily  engaged  in  their 
work  of  destruction. 

Miraculous  Conversion 

One  day  as  the  five  young  men 
were  "going  about  rebelling  against 
God,"  an  angel  of  the  Lord  ap- 
peared unto  them.  The  angel  spoke 
to  them  in  a  voice  of  thunder  which 
made  the  earth  shake.  He  com- 
manded Alma  to  rise,  for  he  had 
fallen  to  the  earth,  and  then  asked 

Why  persecutest  thou  the  church  of 
God?  For  the  Lord  hath  said:  This  is  my 
church,  and  I  will  establish  it;  and  noth- 
ing shall  overthrow  it,  save  it  is  the  trans- 
gression of  my  people  ....  the  Lord  hath 
heard  the  prayers  of  his  people,  and  also 
the  prayers  of  his  servant.  Alma,  who  is 
thy  father;  for  he  has  prayed  with  much 

faith  concerning  thee  that  thou  mightest 
be  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth; 
therefore,  for  this  purpose  have  I  come  to 
convince  thee  of  the  power  and  authority 
of  God,  that  the  prayers  of  his  servants 
might  be  answered  according  to  their 
faith.  .  .  .  And  now  I  say  unto  thee,  Al- 
ma, go  thy  way,  and  seek  to  destroy  the 
church  no  more,  that  their  prayers  may 
be  answered,  and  this  even  if  thou  wilt  of 
thyself  be  cast  off  (Mosiah  27:13  ff.). 

Shocked  by  the  appearance  of  the 
angel  and  by  the  words  he  had 
spoken.  Alma  the  younger  and  the 
sons  of  Mosiah  fell  to  the  ground. 
They  knew  of  a  surety  that  it  was 
the  power  of  God  which  had  made 
the  earth  tremble.  The  astonish- 
ment of  Alma  was  so  great  he  be- 
came dumb  and  could  not  open 
his  mouth.  He  also  became  weak 
so  he  could  not  move  his  hands.  He 
was  carried  in  a  helpless  condition 
to  his  father. 

His  father,  Alma,  rejoiced,  for  he 
knew  that  the  power  of  God  had 
wrought  upon  his  son.  Alma  called 
the  priests  and  the  people  to  as- 
semble to  witness  what  had  hap- 
pened. The  priests  fasted  and 
prayed  to  the  Lord,  petitioning  him 
to  open  the  mouth  of  Alma  the  son 
and  to  bring  strength  to  his  fimbs 
"that  the  eyes  of  the  people  might 
be  opened  to  see  and  know  of  the 
goodness  and  glory  of  God"  (Mo- 
siah 27:22). 

After  two  days  and  nights  of  fast- 
ing and  prayer,  strength  came  into 
the  limbs  of  Alma,  and  he  began  to 
speak  saying,  "I  have  repented  of 
my  sins,  and  have  been  redeemed 
of  the  Lord;  behold  I  am  born  of 
the  Spirit.  .  .  .  My  soul  hath  been 
redeemed  from  the  gall  of  bitterness 
and  bonds  of  iniquity.  I  was  in  the 
darkest  abyss;  but  now  I  behold  the 



marvelous  light  of  God"    (Mosiah 


The  Five  Sons  Become  Preachers 
oi  Righteousness 

From  this  time  forth  Alma  and 
the  four  sons  of  Mosiah  traveled 
throughout  all  the  land  confessing 
their  sins  and  telling  the  people 
how  God  in  his  mercy  had  sent  an 
angel  from  heaven  to  call  them  to 
repentance.  They  were  greatly  per- 
secuted by  unbelievers,  being  smit- 
ten by  many  of  them;  but  amidst 
persecution  they  brought  much  con- 
solation to  the  Church,  confirming 
the  people  in  their  faith  and  ex- 
horting them  to  diligence  in  keep- 
ing the  commandments.  Zealously, 
they  worked  to  repair  the  damage 
which  they  had  done  to  the  Church. 
They  became  powerful  instruments 
in  the  hands  of  God  in  bringing 
many  people  to  a  knowledge  of  their 

The  Sons  of  Mosiah  Take  a 
Mission  to  the  Lamanites 

So  impressed  with  the  power  of 
the  gospel  were  the  sons  of  Mosiah, 
that  they  asked  their  father,  the 
King,  for  the  privilege  of  taking  the 
gospel  to  the  Lamanites  in  the  land 
of  Nephi.  They  told  him  that  they 
wanted  to  convince  the  Lamanites 
of  the  iniquity  of  their  fathers  and 
thus  cure  them  of  their  hatred  to- 
wards the  Nephites  and  establish  an 
era  of  peace  between  these  two  peo- 
ples, and  also  that  they  wanted  the 
Lamanites  to  receive  the  gospel.  It 
hurt  them  to  think  that  any  human 
soul  should  perish. 

They  had  feared,  at  times,  that 
they  would  be  cast  off  forever,  and 
they  desired  to  make  amends  for 

their  wrongdoings.  Mosiah  submit- 
ted to  the  Lord  the  problem  of 
sending  his  sons  to  the  Lamanites 
and  received  in  answer  the  follow- 
ing revelation 

Let  them  go  up,  for  many  shall  beheve 
on  their  words,  and  they  shall  have  eternal 
life;  and  I  will  deliver  thy  sons  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  Lamanites  (Mosiah  28:7). 

And  these  sons  went  on  the  mis- 
sion to  the  land  of  Nephi. 

Mosiah  Proposes  to  EstahUsh  a 
Democratic  Government 

Mosiah  had  no  one  to  confer  the 
kingdom  upon  for  there  was  not  any 
of  his  sons  who  would  accept  the 
kingdom.  They  had  renounced  the 
kingdom  to  become  humble  mis- 
sionaries to  the  Lamanites. 

Mosiah  determined,  therefore,  to 
give  the  plates  of  brass,  the  plates 
of  Nephi,  and  all  the  things  which 
he  had  kept  and  preserved  accord- 
ing to  the  commandments  of  God, 
with  the  twenty-four  gold  plates,  to 
Alma,  the  son  of  Alma.  Mosiah 
had  translated  these  plates  of  gold 
[Book  of  Ether,  see  Ether  1:2]  de- 
livered to  him  by  Limhi  by  means 
of  the  two  stones  fastened  into  the 
two  rims  of  the  bow,  called  inter- 
preters. The  people  of  Mosiah  re- 
joiced in  the  knowledge  that  they 
thus  gained  of  those  people  who 
formerly  had  dwelt  upon  the  land 
and  who  had  been  destroyed  be- 
cause of  their  wickedness. 

Mosiah  wrote  to  his  people  rec- 
ommending that  they  should  not 
have  a  king  but  should  establish  a 
form  of  government  where  ''the  bur- 
den should  come  upon  all  the  peo- 
ple, that  every  man  might  bear  his 
part"  (Mosiah  29:34). 



Elder  James  E.  Talmage,  in  his 
Vitality  of  Mormonism,  copyright 
1919,  page  200,  gives  us  an  interest- 
ing summary  of  the  pohtical 
achievements  of  Mosiah: 

In  a  stirring  proclamation  he  set 
forth  the  potential  dangers  of  kingly  rnle 
and  admonished  the  nation  to  guard  its 
liberty  as  a  sacred  possession,  and  to  dele- 
gate the  governing  powers  to  officers  of  its 
own  choosing,  whom  he  called  judges,  who 
should  be  elected  by  popular  vote,  and 
who  could  be  impeached  if  charged  with 
iniquitous  exercises  of  power  and  be  re- 
moved if  found  unworthy.  King  Mosiah 
summarized  in  a  masterful  way  the  funda- 
mentals of  true  democracy. 

His  reasons  for  discouraging  the 
selection  of  a  king  were,  in  sub- 
stance, as  follows:  (1)  Aaron,  his 
son,  whose  right  it  was  to  be  king 
had  refused  the  call.  If  the  king- 
dom was  conferred  upon  another, 
Aaron  might  regret  his  decision  and 
seek  through  war  to  gain  his  right- 
ful crown;  (2)  It  is  better  to  be 
judged  by  God  than  by  man;  (3) 
Sometimes  people  suffer  under  the 
rule  of  a  wicked  king,  like  King 
Noah  in  the  land  of  Nephi,  and  are 
taken  into  bondage;  (4)  The  wick- 
edness of  a  king  leads  the  people 
astray,  and  finally,  it  should  be  a 
land  of  liberty  where  justice  and 
equality  exist. 

For  these  reasons  Mosiah  suggest- 
ed to  them  that  they  establish  an- 
other form  of  government,  a  demo- 
cratic form  where  the  people  would 
elect  judges  and  have  the  power  to 
recall  them  in  case  they  did  not 
judge  righteous  judgments.  The 
higher  judges  could  be  tried  by  a 
select  group  of  lower  judges,  and 
the  lower  judges  could  be  tried  by 
the  higher  judges. 

Alma  the  Son  Becomes  the 
First  Chief  Judge 

The  people,  acclaiming  the  wis- 
dom and  foresight  of  Mosiah,  ac- 
cepted his  recommendations.  Alma 
the  son  was  appointed  to  be  the  first 
Chief  Judge.  Alma  now  had  a  dual 
mission,  to  serve  as  Chief  Judge  to 
the  people,  and  to  act  as  their  re- 
ligious leader,  as  High  Priest,  an  of- 
fice that  had  been  conferred  on  him 
by  his  father. 

The  reign  of  the  judges  through- 
out all  the  land  of  Zarahemla, 
among  all  the  people  who  were 
called  the  Nephites,  commenced  in 
91  B.C.,  with  Alma  the  son  as 
first  Chief  Judge.  Mosiah  died  in 
the  thirty-third  year  of  his  reign  at 
the  age  of  sixty-three.  Alma  the  fa- 
ther, the  founder  of  the  Church, 
died  about  the  same  time,  having 
lived  eighty-two  years. 

Mosiah  had  lived  to  shape  condi- 
tions in  such  a  manner  that  he 
established  a  sound  pattern  of  rep- 
resentative government  in  America 
at  a  very  early  period.  He  taught  the 
people  that  America  was  to  be  a 
land  of  equality,  a  land  of  liberty, 
and  that  equality  and  liberty  were 
products  of  a  deep  and  abiding 
spirituality  among  both  leaders  and 

Questions  for  Discussion 

1 .  What  effect  did  the  conversion  of  the 
four  sons  of  Mosiah  have  upon  Nephite 

2.  Why  did  Mosiah  condemn  the  king- 
ly form  of  government? 

3.  What  values  did  he  see  in  a  repre- 
sentative democracy? 

4.  How  much  did  Mosiah  value  liberty 
among  the  people? 

5.  What  lesson  can  we  learn  concern- 
ing our  representative  democracy? 

Visiting  cJeacher  1 1  iessages 

Book  of  Mormon  Gems  of  Truth 

Lesson  23— ''But  There  Is  a  Resurrection,  Therefore  the  Grave  Hath  No 
Victory,  and  the  Sting  of  Death  Is  Swallowed  Up  in  Christ''  (Mosiah  16:8). 

Leone  O.  Jacobs 

For  Tuesday,  April  6,  1954 

Objective:  To  give  assurance  of  life  after  death. 

"IITE  shall  live  again!  This  is  the 
glorious  promise  of  the  resur- 
rection! Down  through  the  ages, 
many  great  and  noble  souls  have 
echoed  the  words  of  Job,  "I  know 
that  my  Redeemer  liveth"  (Job 
19:25).  History  also  affirms  the 
truth  of  the  resurrection. 

To  Latter-day  Saints  the  resur- 
rection is  not  a  fantastic  story,  not 
a  dim  hope,  but  a  reah'ty.  It  is  a 
logical  sequence  to  mortality.  We 
accept  it  as  an  important  part  of 
the  plan  of  salvation.  Latter-day 
Saints  have  evidence  of  the  resur- 
rection which  is  not  known  to  the 
world  generally.  In  answer  to  the 
sincere  prayer  of  Joseph  Smith,  the 
Father,  and  the  risen  Redeemer  ap- 
peared to  him  in  person.  Later,  Jo- 
seph Smith  and  Sidney  Rigdon  be- 
held the  Savior  and  heard  his  voice. 
This  is  their  solemn  declaration: 

And  now,  after  the  many  testimonies 
which  have  been  given  of  him,  this  is  the 
testimony,  last  of  all,  which  we  give  of 
him:  That  he  lives!  For  we  saw  him,  even 
on  the  right  hand  of  God;  and  we  heard 
the  voice  bearing  record  that  he  is  the 
Only  Begotten  of  the  Father — That  by 
him,  and  through  him,  and  of  him,  the 
worlds  are  and  were  created,  and  the  in- 
habitants thereof  are  begotten  sons  and 
daughters  unto  God  (D.  &  C.  76:22-24). 

Latter-day  Saints  accept  birth  and 
death  as  necessary  steps  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  mankind.    We  came 

Poge  58 

to  this  earth  to  prove  ourselves  in 
mortality.  From  here  we  will  go  on 
to  another  stage  of  development  to 
continue  eternally.  It  has  been  said, 
'To  live  is  to  go  on  a  journey.  To 
die  is  but  to  come  back  home.'' 

A  perfect  faith  in  the  resurrection 
tempers  the  parting  with  loved 
ones.  It  brings  comfort  and  tran- 
quility to  the  hearts  of  the  be- 
reaved, for  they  are  assured  that  the 
separation  is  for  a  relatively  short 
period,  and  is  but  preliminary  to  a 
happier  state. 

We  might  say  that  death  itself 
gives  credence  to  the  resurrection 
for  were  there  no  resurrection,  an 
immense  waste  of  time  and  strug- 
gle and  achievement  would  result. 
Such  waste  is  not  consistent  with 
the  works  of  God.  Surely  the  plan 
of  the  Creator  which  brings  planets 
into  being,  and  which  creates  the 
human  body,  would  not  permit 
countless  millions  of  people  to 
spend  a  few  years  in  this  troubled 
life,  if  it  were  not  to  be  followed 
by  something  of  great  consequence. 

"  'I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liv- 
eth.'  He  who  can  thus  testify  of 
the  living  Redeemer,''  said  Presi- 
dent David  O.  McKay,  "has  his  soul 
anchored  in  eternal  truth"  (Deseret 
NewSy  "Church  Section,"  April  16, 

Vi/ork    nleeting — Family  Money  Management 

(A  Course  Recommended  for  Use  by  Wards  and  Branches  at  Work  Meeting) 

Lesson  7-Spending  Your  Home  Furnishings  Dollar-Soft  Floor  Coverings 

For  Tuesday,  April  13,  1954 

Rhea  H.  Gardner 

TN  no  other  field  of  home  furnish-  carpet  yarn,  and  blended  with  wool, 

ings  have  there  been  so  many  new  Blends  now  make  up  about  seventy 

innovations  in  such  a  short  time  as  per  cent  of  rug  production.  In  1952, 

in    soft    floor    coverings.     Weave  rayon  was  used  in  forty-one  per  cent 

names,  such  as  Wilton  and  Axmin-  of  all  carpets  made;  thirty  per  cent 

ster,  are  becoming  more  and  more  of  the  entire  output  of  soft  floor 

unimportant.     Today,  there    is    an  coverings  was   of  cotton.    One  no 

ever-widening  choice  of  new  weaves,  longer  needs  to   feel   that  wool  is 

fibers,  and  methods  of  construction,  the  only  carpet  fiber  that  can  be  re- 

The  kind  that  is  best  for  you  will  lied    upon.     A  test    was    made    by 

depend  upon  your  personal  needs,  sewing  strips  of  fifty  per  cent  wool 

There  is  a  ''best  buy"  for  every  need  and  fifty  per  cent  rayon-blend  car- 

and  for  every  room.  peting  with  strips  of  all  wool.  After 

No  longer  can  one  say  that  one  two  years  of  heavy  use,  no  one  was 

fiber  produces  a  better  appearing  or  able  to   see  any   difference  in   the 

better   wearing    rug   than    another,  wearing  qualities  of  the  two  weaves. 

Factors   other   than  kind   of   fiber  J^ead  the  Label.    If  it  says  "wool 

must     be     considered.      Generally  and  rayon/'  at  least  fifty  per  cent  of 

speaking,   a   dense  pile  will   mean  the  rug  must   be   made   of   wool, 

longer  wear.   The  type  of  construe-  There  could  be  as  much  as  ninety- 

tion  is  not  as  important  as  the  thick-  ^ive    per    cent.     If  the  label  reads 

ness  of  the  pile,  according  to  tests  "rayon  (or  acetate)  and  wool,"  the 

made  by  the  National  Bureau  of  ^ug  will  contain  at  least  fifty  per 

Standards.    Loop  pile  construction  cent  rayon  and  could  go  as  high  as 

repels  soil  and  crushing  more  than  ninety-five  per  cent, 

does  cut  pile.  The  number  of  rows  Some  advantages  of  rayon  carpet 

of  tufts  per  inch  is  no  longer  the  ^iber  over  wool  are: 

only  measuring  guide  to  quality.  Of  i-  Carpet  rayon    has    a  much    greater 

two    carpets,    each    with    the    same  tensile  strength  than  wool 

^      '              .       .              .     ,  2.  It  costs  much  less  than  good  wool, 

number  of  rows  of  tufts  per  mch,  ^    j^  has  better  surface  coverage  than 

one  might  be  far  superior.  all  wool. 

Wool  will  likely  forever  remain  a  4-  Jt  does  not  stain  easily,  and  stains 

.         .                .  <-i         J       M.     '1.    I,'  -u  niay  be   easily  removed,   because   or   low 

favorite  carpet  fiber,  due  to  its  high  j^^isture  absorption  of  fiber, 

resistance  to  crushing,  resistance  to  ^^^^  disadvantages  are 

soil,  ease  of  cleaning,  and  good  wear-  r-,      •        1     . 

Ti.-         T^   ^4-^  «   ol,^^t-«rr«  ^f  1-  Rayon  fiber  is  weak  when  wet. 

mg  qualities.   Due  to  a  shortage  of  ^  ^J^^^^^  ^^^^^  .^  ^^^^.^^  ^^^^^^^.^^  ^^.^ 

carpet-type     wool,     however,     man-  ^o  it.  (Manufacturers  are  working  to  elim- 

made   fibers  are  being  woven  into  inate  this.) 

Page  59 



3.  It  has  low  resistance  to  crushing,  and 
as  it  crushes,  the  color  appears  to  change. 

4.  It  fades  more  readily  than  all  wool. 

With  the  increasing  use  of  cot- 
ton fibers  in  rugmaking,  one  cannot 
aflFord  to  desregard  cotton-face  car- 
peting, when  considering  the  pur- 
chase of  a  soft  floor  covering. 

Some  advantages  of  cotton  car- 
peting are: 

1.  Prices  are  lower  than  for  most  other 

2.  It  is  mothproof. 

3.  Some  types  are  reversible. 

4.  Cleaning  is  simple,  if  the  rug  can 
be  taken  up  and  sent  to  a  commercial 

5.  It  wears  well. 

Some  disadvantages  are: 

1.  Stains  are  not  easily  removed. 

2.  It  sheds  lint. 

3.  Cut  pile  mats  down  when  stepped 

4.  All  colors  are  not  yet  fast  to  sun- 

5.  Cotton  has  an  affinity  for  soil. 

6.  Loose  carpeting  kicks  up  easily,  if 
not  treated. 

7.  Cotton  carpet  stretches.  It  is  par- 
ticularly noticeable  in  wall-to-fall  cotton 
carpeting.  Manufacturers  are  trying  to 
find  a  method  of  preventing  stretching. 

Saron,  Fiber  E,  and  nylon  are 
other  man-made  fibers  that  are  be- 

ing tested  for  carpet  use,  but  it  is 
not  expected  that  any  of  them  will 
be  available  in  abundance  for  some 
time,  due  either  to  shortage  of  sup- 
ply or  high  cost  of  production. 

Qualities  essential  to  all  soft  floor 
coverings  that  receive  any  great 
amount  of  use  are:  Easy  to  care  for; 
easy  to  stand  and  walk  on;  beauti- 
ful, yet  simple,  so  they  will  provide 
a  quiet  background  for  other  room 
furnishings;  and  practical. 

In  order  to  get  the  best  buy, 
consider  what  your  room  will  be 
used  for,  the  price  you  can  afford 
to  pay,  the  type  of  rug— weave,  fiber, 
and  color— needed  to  stand  the  wear 
it  will  get,  and  the  length  of  serv- 
ice you  will  want  from  it. 

Do  read  the  labels.  Deal  with  a 
reliable  merchant.  Keep  informed 
on  developments  in  the  field,  in- 
cluding comparative  prices.  Be 
ready  to  take  advantage  of  ''best 
buys"  when  you  need  to  buy. 

Thought  ioT  Discussion 

Price  of  carpet  is  determined  by  the 
kind  and  amount  of  materials  used,  plus 
cost  of  man-hours  in  setting  up  loom  and 
weaving.  Some  carpets  cost  less  because 
fewer  man-hours  are  required  in  the  man- 
ufacturing process,  not  because  materials 
are  inferior. 

GU  year 

Giace  Sayre 

The  last  day  of  the  year  has  wound  the  clock, 
The  last  faint  ember  on  the  hearth  burns  low, 
December,  pausing,  opens  up  the  door; 
He  turns  to  go. 

But  as  he  turns,  a  joyous  peal  of  bells 
Rings  gaily  out,  beginning  a  New  Year. 
But  old  December,  weary,  goes  his  way. 
He  doesn't  even  hear! 

cLiterature—Jht  Literature  of  England 

Lesson  39-Robert  Browning,  ''Poet  of  Personality"  (1812-1889) 

Elder  Briant  S.  /acobs 
Textbook:  The  Liteiatuie  of  England,  II,  Woods,  Watt,  Anderson,  pp.  655-709 

For  Tuesday,  April  20,  1954 

Objective:  To  study  Browning's  lite  and  works,  that  we  might  come  to  see  more 
fully  the  unifying  values  they  contribute  to  each  other. 

Biowning's  Love  for  Mankind  creation.    Then,  too,  Browning  be- 

JN  our  last  lesson  the  boy  David  lieved  that,  since  this  life  is  largely 

led  King  Saul  to  inner  peace  by  a  testing  ground,  it  would  not  ful- 

revealing  anew  to  him  the  love  and  fill  its  purpose  were  evil  non-exist- 

sympathy  Christ  has  for  men.  In-  ent.     Finally,  the  presence  of  evil 

deed  we  might  say  that  Browning's  in  a  person  did  not  make  him  less 

concept  of  God  is  centered  about  than  human.     Despite  our  weak- 

the  word  Jove;  in  similar  manner  nesses.  Browning  believed  we  should 

Browning's    own    attitude    toward  regard  each  other  with  understand- 

man  and  woman,  is  based  upon  the  ing  and  sympathy, 

same  key  word.  Love  for  mankind,  then,  enabled 

Like  Shakespeare,  Browning  saw  Browning   to   depict   all   types    of 

the  world  as  a  stage,  whose  players  characters.  Browning's  more  typical 

are   brought    to    life   through    the  use  of  love,  however,  was  to  elevate 

craftsmanship  of  a  Master  Artist,  the  beauty,  the  worth  of  married 

Like  Shakespeare,  Browning  created  love;  here  the  truth  of  human  love 

all  types  of  humanity,  motivated  by  becomes  the  very  keystone  of  his 

all  the  human  passions:  selfishness,  view  of  life. 

cruelty,  fleshly  and  intellectual  lust,  Browning's  love  poems  are  nu- 
hate,  jealousy,  sloth,  loyalty,  love,  merous,  and  saturated  with  his  burn- 
faith,  spirituality.  He  seeks  neither  ing  testimony  that  love  between 
to  judge  humanity  nor  to  analyze  the  sexes  is  the  highest  good  on 
and  explain  it,  but  only  to  condense  earth.  In  "The  Last  Ride  Togeth- 
the  reality  of  a  character  into  a  few  er"  (not  in  our  text),  the  poem 
lines  of  poetry.  concludes: 

Immediately   the   question   pre-  ^^^  -^  ^^  ^^U  ^de  on,  we  two 

sents    itself:    How    can    Brownmg,  with  hfe  forever  old  yet  new, 

who  never  qualifies  his  ringing  belief  Changed  not  in  kind  but  in  degree, 

in   the  essential   goodness  of  both  The  instant  made  eternity,— 

man  and  God,  admit  that  evil  is  al-  ^^^^^^US^Z^^^ 
so  an  mherent  part  of  man  s  nature? 

Browning  was  fascinated  by  the         Others  of  his  love  poems  are,  'Tn 

workings  of  evil  in   man,  because  a     Gondola"     (text,     page    660); 

wherever  there  is  evil  there  must  "Meeting   at    Night"    (text,    page 

also  be  inner  conflict  and  struggle—  666);   'Two   on    the   Campagna," 

a  complexity  of  motives  which  chal-  ''Love  Among  the  Ruins,"  and  "My 

lenge  his  powers  of  perception  and  Star"  (text,  page  681),  all  acknowl- 

Poge  61 



edging  the  power  of  mortal  love, 
yet  all  tending  to  spiritualize  this 
relationship  into  something  divine. 
As  long  as  English  is  spoken, 
Elizabeth  Barrett  Brov^ning's  Son- 
nets From  the  Portuguese  will  never 
be  forgotten  by  a  world  which  loves 
a  lover.  Particularly  memorable  is 
"How  do  I  love  thee?  Let  me  count 
the  ways  .  .  ."  (text,  page  714) 
which  might  well  be  read  in  present- 
ing this  lesson.  Robert  answered 
his  lover  in  kind,  notably  in 
"My  Star"  (text,  page  681)  and 
the  poem  to  The  Ring  and  the 
Book  which  was  dedicated  to  his 

O  lyric  Love,  half  angel  and  half  bird, 
And  all  a  wonder  and  a  wild  desire — 
Boldest  of  hearts  that  ever  braved  the  sun, 
Took  sanctuary  within  the  holier  blue, 
And  sang  a  kindred  soul  out  to  his  face — 
Yet  human  at  the  red-ripe  of  the  heart — 
(text,  page  707,  lines  1-5) 

Here  indeed  is  a  great  love  unit- 
ing two  great  hearts. 

However,  Robert  Browning's 
greatest  writings  are  not  his  love 
poems.  To  serious  students  of 
Browning,  probably  some  of  his 
best-loved  poems  are  "My  Last 
Duchess"  (text,  page  659);  "The 
Bishop  Orders  His  Tomb  at  St. 
Praxed's  Church"  (text,  page  670); 
and  "Rabbi  Ben  Ezra"  (text,  page 


The  Dramatic  Monologue 

Browning  is  one  of  the  most  mod- 
ern of  Victorian  poets.  So  much 
did  he  expect  of  readers  that,  for  the 
most  part,  they  were  bewildered 
and  could  make  nothing  of  him. 
Two  sources  of  his  difficulty  should 
be  mentioned.  First,  Browning  had 
saturated  himself  so  completely 
with   his   historical   and   imaginary 

materials  that,  to  an  extent,  he  freed 
himself  from  details  in  his  intense 
concern  for  creating  the  whole.  This 
goal  of  condensing  into  a  few  con- 
centrated lines  a  living,  unified 
character  was  so  strong  that  Brown- 
ing sometimes  neglected  relation- 
ship between  the  parts,  and  his 
readers  became  confused. 

A  second  cause,  producing  similar 
difficulties,  was  that  Browning  chose 
the  spoken  monologue  as  his  med- 
ium, and  with  his  goal  of  bringing 
the  reader  immediately  and  inti- 
mately into  a  dramatic,  crucial  mo- 
ment in  the  life  of  the  speaker,  the 
monologue  wanders  loosely  from 
one  idea  to  another,  and  supplies 
little  connection  between  widely 
scattered  subjects. 

My  Last  Duchess 
Note  to  Chss  Leaders: 

In  presenting  'The  Last  Duchess"  it 
would  be  advantageous  for  copies  of  the 
poem  to  be  in  the  hands  of  class  mem- 

Surely,  for  many  readers,  if  they 
have  loved  one  poem  in  English 
literature  it  has  been  "My  Last 
Duchess"  (text,  page  659).  And 
justly  so,  for  where  else  in  fifty-six 
lines  is  condensed  an  entire  way  of 
life  as  exemplified  by  two  charac- 
ters whom  we  come  to  know  as 
well  as  these?  The  great  delight  in 
the  poem  comes  when  it  ends 
abruptly  and  we  begin  to  realize 
how  far  we  have  come  in  so  short 
a  distance.  Then  a  few  casual  com- 
ments on  a  portrait  are  recognized 
for  the  masterpiece  they  are,  in 
which  every  brush  stroke  reveals  to 
us  far  more  than  the  Duke  of  Fer- 
rara  intended. 


The  scene  of  the  poem  is  an  up-  the  artist.     Seeing  the  astonished 

per  hallway  or  gallery  in  the  palace  look  on   the  envoy's  face,   indeed 

of  the  Italian  Duke.  The  time  is  the  from  past  experience  expecting  it, 

sixteenth     century,    when     Italian  the  Duke  *'by  design"  points  out 

royalty   was   at   the   height   of   its  that  the  artist  was  a  celibate  monk, 

wealth,  power,  and  love  of  culture.  The  Duke's  ''design,"  is  to  justify 

The  Duke  has  slipped  away  from  all  the  evident  precautions  he  was 

the  main  company  of  guests  to  dis-  forced  to  take  to  prevent  his  lady 

cuss  with  a  Count's  envoy  his  re-  from  starting  a  flirtation  or  a  love 

quest  for  the  Count's  daughter  as  a  affair.  He  might  well  label  as  '  pre- 

bride.    Previous  to  the  opening  of  cautions"   his   choosing  a  celibate 

the  poem,  the  two  men  have  prob-  monk  as  artist,  and  allowing  the 

ably  been  strolling  about,  discussing  artist  to  be  near  his  Duchess,  but 

practical   details   for   the   marriage  one  fleet  day;  but  when  he  points 

contract,   interspersed   with   proud  out  that  he  alone  uncurtains  the 

explanatory  comments  by  the  Duke  painting— that  even  now,  when  she 

on  his  various  art  treasures  as  the  is  either  dead  or  imprisoned,  she 

two  men  pass  them  by.    They  ap-  is  his  and  his  only,  then  the  raging 

proach    a    curtained    portrait;    the  jealousy  of  the  Duke  becomes  more 

Duke  draws  back  the  curtain,  and  evident. 

the  poem  begins  as  the  two  men  Her  great  fault  then  stands  re- 
stand  admiring  the  painting.  vealed:  she  could  not  save  her  love- 
in  contrast  to  ''My  Future  Duch-  hness  and  "spot  of  joy"  for  him 
ess"  just  being  discussed,  here  is  my  alone.  While  he  approved  of 
last  one,  but  said  so  impersonally  courtesy  in  her,  a  mark  of  good 
that  she  might  have  been  but  one  of  breeding,  his  pride  suffered  unbear- 
many,  even  as  the  new  one  may  be,  ably  when  he  received  from  her 
should  she  prove  herself  unworthy,  merely  the  same  dazzling  smile  that 
In  the  next  two  lines  the  Duke  she  freely  gave  to  the  sunset,  to  the 
evaluates  the  painting  as  a  work  of  mule,  to  anybody,  even  to  "no- 
art  (not  at  all  as  a  person,  let  alone  bodies." 

someone  he  has  loved),  thus  dis-  Nor  could  the  Duke  lower  him- 

playing    both     his     discriminating  self  to  so  vulgar  a  level  as  to  point 

critical    powers   and    his    pride   of  out  to  his  lovely,  innocent  wife  her 

ownership.     After  telling  the  en-  weakness.     Then,  says  the  Duke, 

voy  that  the  picture  was  painted  in  whether  she  accepted  my  comment 

one    day   by   an   artist-monk,    the  or  fought  it,  I  would  be  lowered  by 

Duke  invites  him  to  sit  beside  him  the  mere  mention  of  the  matter 

while  they  discuss  the  painting.  ''and  I  choose  never  to  stoop." 

"I  said  'Fra  Pondolf  by  design,"  Next  the  Duke  says,  "She  smiled, 

says  the  Duke.  But  what  is  his  de-  no  doubt,  whene'er  I  passed  her." 

sign?    Like  all  others  who  had  not  We  must  ask  why  the  Duke  says 

known  the  Duchess  personally,  the  "no  doubt"?    Because,  in  the  later 

envoy  was  struck  at  once  with  the  stages  of  their  strained  relationship, 

"depth  and  passion  of  its  earnest  he  could  not  even  bear  looking  at 

glance,"  as  if  she  were  enamored  of  her  as  he  strode  by.  Then,  true  to 



A  Perry  Picture 



his  concept  of  aristocracy,  the  Duke 
mentions  her  demise  in  the  proper, 
vague,  genteel  language  which  such 
unpleasant  subjects  merit,  as  if  to 
say,  ''Of  course  you,  an  underling, 
dare  not  ask  for  more  details  con- 
cerning her  end,  and,  really,  I  have 
already  said  more  than  is  necessary. 
But  don't  forget  how  violently  an 
ill-bred  woman  upsets  any  true 
gentleman,  and  don't  forget,  when 
you  return,  to  whisper  a  few  proper 
words  of  wisdom  into  proper  ears." 
Then,  as  if  to  conceal  his  true  in- 
tent of  mentioning  so  delicate  a 
matter  to  a  representative  of  his  fi- 
ancee, he  ends  the  discussion  of  his 
last  Duchess  by  again  discussing  her 
portrait  as  an  artistic  achievement 
(lines  46-47). 
The  interview  is  ended.  As  they 

rise  to  rejoin  the  company,  the  dis- 
cussion of  dowry  is  resumed.  Nor 
does  the  Duke  want  to  be  misunder- 
stood: he  is  marrying  the  Count's 
daughter  for  her  own  charms,  not 
for  the  sizable  fortune  he  now  in- 
sists she  brings  when  he  accepts  her 
as  worthy  of  his  name. 

As  is  fitting,  the  menial  falls  be- 
hind the  royal  Duke  as  they  ap- 
proach the  stairs,  but  the  Duke  in- 
sists she  brings  when  he  accepts  her 
heard  such  intimate  outpourings  can 
well  be  treated  for  a  moment  as  an 
equal.  The  poem  ends  on  a  note 
exactly  corresponding  to  its  open- 
ing: the  objective  discussion  of 
works  of  art  as  such,  interpreted  by 
their  lord  and  master. 

This  poem  can  be  appreciated 
from  three  different  points  of  view. 
How  would  you  evaluate  it  were  you 
a  fellow  nobleman  of  the  Italian 
Renaissance?  How  if  you  were 
Browning  himself?  How,  if  you  were 
an  Englishman  either  Victorian  or 
modern?  While  it  becomes  almost 
inevitable  for  us  to  cast  the  Duch- 
ess as  heroine,  the  Duke  as  villain, 
it  should  be  pointed  out  that 
Browning  himself  blames  or  con- 
demns neither.  Possibly,  then,  in  de- 
ference to  Browning's  discussed  at- 
titude toward  his  fellows,  we  should 
at  least  present  the  possibility  that 
the  Duke,  living  in  the  time  and 
place  he  did,  was  not  all  bad,  and 
the  Duchess  possibly  was  not  all 

R^bhi  Ben  Ezra 

It  is  fitting  that  we  conclude  our 
study  of  Browning,  ''the  poet  of 
personality,"  by  discussing  "Rabbi 
Ben  Ezra"  (text,  page  698),  since 
it  gives  us  Browning's  own  beliefs 



in  poetic  form.  In  a  reading  of  this 
poem  it  is  impossible  to  conjure  in 
one's  inner  eye  any  portrait  of  the 
Rabbi  which  does  not  have  the 
face,  the  voice,  and  the  ringing  af- 
firmations of  Browning  himself.  In- 
deed, so  completely  has  the  poet  re- 
vealed himself  in  his  poem  that  it 
has  come  to  be  Browning;  therefore, 
for  Rahbi  substitute  Robeit;  for  Ben 
substitute  Browning,  and  let  the  E 
in  Ezra  stand  for  Esquire.  Thus  the 
poem  is  truly  titled. 

In  approaching  ''Rabbi  Ben  Ezra'' 
we  should  remind  ourselves  that 
Browning  was  never  a  systematic 
philosopher;  therefore  let  us  be 
grateful  for  whatever  random  mor- 
sels of  his  truth  and  beauty  we  find 
herein.  We  should  also  remember 
that,  while  Browning  was  never  in- 
tentionally obscure,  sometimes  his 
lines  are  nonetheless  twisted,  cryp- 
tic, and  difficult. 

Published  in  1864,  three  years 
after  the  death  of  Browning's  wife, 
this  poem  states  the  religious  and 
moral  credo  of  the  mature  Brown- 
ing. Since  unity  with  his  beloved 
Elizabeth  was  now  possible  in  mem- 
ory only,  Browning  here  seems  to 
inventory  whatever  powers  and  be- 
liefs remain  to  sustain  him. 

Primarily  the  poem  is  a  statement 
of  unities:  youth  and  age  form  a 
completeness;  so  do  doubt  and 
faith,  flesh  and  soul,  joy  and  pain, 
man  and  God,  mortality  and  im- 
mortality, life  and  death.  The  tone 
of  the  poem  is  one  of  vigorous  re- 
assurance, of  gratitude  for  the  rich, 
full  life  which  God  grants  to  mor- 
tals, with  its  crowning  glory  of  old 
age  and,  finally,  immortality. 

Perhaps    the    first   stanza   is   the 

most    famous    one,   and    is   widely 

Grow  old  along  with  me! 

The  best  is  yet  to  be, 

The  last  of  life,  for  which  the  first  was 

Our  times  are  in  his  hand 
Who  saith,  "A  whole  I  planned, 
Youth  shows  but  half.  Trust  God;  see  all, 

nor  be  afraid!" 

(  text,  page  698,  lines  1-6) 

Browning's  main  intent  is  to  af- 
firm his  trust  in  a  God  who,  having 
created  man  and  placed  him  on 
earth,  proves  his  love  for  man  and 
the  perfection  of  his  plan,  by  giving 
man  life  and  joy  (lines  55-60).  But 
before  man  can  know  his  joy,  says 
Browning,  he  should  come  to  know 
the  doubt  which  lower  forms  of  life 
cannot  possess,  but  a  doubt  which 
is  the  necessary  preliminary  to  a 
sustaining  faith  (lines  16-21 ) .  These 
noble  doubts  are  vanquished  when 
we  realize  that  God  has  first  or- 
dained pain  for  man,  that  finally  he 
might  come  to  know  pleasure  and 

Then,  welcome  each  rebuff 

That  turns  earth's  smoothness  rough, 

Eacn   sting  that  bids  nor  sit  nor  stand 

but  go! 
Be  our  joys  three-parts  pain! 
Strive,  and  hold  cheap  the  strain; 
Learn,  nor  account  the  pang;  dare,  never 

grudge  the  throe! 

(text,  page  698,  lines  31-37) 

After  listing  misunderstandings 
and  conflicts  which  have  pained 
him,  Browning  uses  the  imagery  of 
Isaiah  and  Jeremiah  in  comparing 
man  to  a  cup  made  on  the  potter's 
wheel  of  God.  God's  work  is  good; 
all  his  materials  and  achievements 
in  forming  man  are  eternal  (lines 
157-162),  and,  knowing  this,  man 



should  "look  up"  and  shape  him- 
self into  the  perfect  vessel  God  in- 
tended him  to  be: 

My  times  be  in  Thy  hand! 
Perfect  the  cup  as  planned! 
Let  age  approve  of  youth,  and 
death  complete  the  same! 

(text,  page  700,  lines  190-192) 

Questions  for  Discussion 

1.  What  was  Browning's  attitude  to- 
ward love? 

2.  Why  is  the  dramatic  monologue  the 
tool  ideally  shaped  to  fulfill  Browning's 
intent  as  a  poet? 

3.  Justify  the  description  of  Browning 
as  the  "poet  of  personality." 

Social  Science — The  Constitution 
of  the  United  States 

Lesson  6— The  Philadelphia  Convention 

Elder  Albert  R.  Bowen 

For  Tuesday,  April  27,  1954 

Objective:  To  study  the  environment  in  which  the  Constitution  was  written;  to 
observe  the  methods  employed  by  the  convention  in  considering  its  provisions;  and  to 
detennine  the  reasons  why  the  Constitutional  Convention  was  a  success. 

Importance  of  Convention  of  1787 

"PARRAND,  the  historian,  says 
that  the  Federal  Constitutional 
Convention  of  1787  was  the  most 
important  convention  that  ever  sat 
in  the  United  States.  Considering 
its  great  importance  and  the  tre- 
mendous consequences  which  were 
to  flow  from  it,  it  is  not  an  an  over- 
statement to  assert  that  the  Con- 
stitutional Convention  of  1787  was 
one  of  the  fateful  assemblies  of  his- 
tory. So  far  as  political  history  is 
concerned,  no  assembly  ever  held 
was  of  greater  significance  to  man- 
kind. Out  of  it  was  to  emerge,  in 
a  remarkably  brief  period  of  time, 
the  greatest  political  document  of 
all  time. 

Some  of  the  members  of  the 
Convention  sensed  the  significance 
of  the  task  before  them.  James 
Madison  (Virginia)  said  the  Con- 
vention was  ''now  to  decide  forever 
the    fate    of    Republican    govern- 

ment.'' Gouverneur  Morris  (Penn- 
sylvania) declared:  ''The  whole  hu- 
man race  will  be  affected  by  the  pro- 
ceedings of  this  Convention."  James 
Wilson  (Pennsylvania),  with  equal 
seriousness,  stated:  "After  the  lapse 
of  six  thousand  years  since  the  cre- 
ation of  the  world,  America  now 
presents  the  first  instance  of  a  peo- 
ple assembled  to  weigh  deliberately 
and  calmly  and  to  decide  leisurely 
and  peaceably  upon  the  form  of  gov- 
ernment by  which  they  will  bind 
themselves  and  their  posterity." 
James  Wilson  was  absolutely  correct 
in  this  statement.  Never  before  in 
all  history  had  there  been  a  com- 
parable gathering  called  together  by 
the  will  of  a  sovereign  people  to  de- 
termine their  form  of  government. 

Attendance  oi  Delegates 

The  Convention  was  called  to 
meet  at  Philadelphia  on  the  second 
Monday  of  May  in  1787.  The  first 
meeting  could  not  be  held,  however, 



until  May  25th.  It  was  not  until 
then  that  a  majority  of  the  states 
were  represented  by  delegates.  This 
was  due,  in  part,  to  difficulties  at- 
tendant upon  travel  in  those  early 
days,  and  to  a  reluctance  upon  the 
part  of  some  of  the  delegates  even 
to  attend.  Indeed,  some  of  them 
never  attended.  As  we  view  the  tre- 
mendous significance  of  the  events 
which  were  about  to  be  enacted  up- 
on the  stage  of  history,  it  is  difficult 
for  us  to  comprehend  the  lack  of 
foresight  and  sense  of  history-in-the- 
making,  which  kept  twenty-one  of 
the  delegates  named  from  ever  at- 

In  all,  seventy-four  delegates  were 
named  by  twelve  of  the  states. 
Rhode  Island  refused  to  name  dele- 
gates and  was  never  represented  at 
the  Convention.  Of  the  seventy- 
four  delegates  named,  only  fifty-five 
ever  attended.  Some  only  attended 
part  of  the  time,  and  average  at- 
tendance was  from  thirty  to  thirty- 
five.  The  Constitution,  therefore, 
was  the  product  of  a  relatively  small 
group  of  men.  It  is  eloquent  testi- 
mony of  the  sagacity  and  political 
wisdom  of  those  who  did  the  actual 

George  Washington, 
the  Piesiding  OSicei 

The  Convention  met  in  the  old 
State  House  in  Philadelphia.  Wash- 
ington was  the  unanimous  choice  to 
preside.  While  his  occupancy  of 
the  chair  prevented  him  from  tak- 
ing active  part  in  the  debates,  his 
influence  was  great.  He  was  always 
available  for  advice  and  encourage- 
ment of  the  work  of  the  Conven- 
tion. It  is  certain  that  no  delegate 
exerted  a  greater  influence  than  he 

in  bringing  the  Convention  to  a 
successful  conclusion. 

It  was  soon  to  become  apparent 
that  great  powers  of  persuasion  and 
conciliation  would  be  required  to 
hold  the  Convention  together  and 
to  bring  about  the  great  compro- 
mises (to  be  studied  in  lesson  7), 
which  were  reflected  in  the  final 
draft  which  was  signed  some  three 
months  later.  Washington  was  to 
provide  the  diplomacy,  tact,  and 
persuasiveness  necessary  to  the  ac- 
complishment of  the  work.  He  was, 
by  all  odds,  the  greatest  American 
of  his  day.  He  was  universally  re- 
spected and  trusted.  Any  cause 
which  enjoyed  his  sponsorship  was 
already  half  assured  of  success. 

Much  of  the  progress  made  was 
accomplished  in  informal  sessions 
between  regular  meetings  of  the 
Convention.  It  was  in  these  inform- 
al discussions  that  Washington  was 
to  prove  the  tremendous  power  of 
his  influence.  The  debates  upon 
the  proposals  and  counter-proposals 
were  often  heated  and,  at  times, 
were  bitter.  The  weather  was  very 
hot  during  most  of  the  time  the 
Convention  was  in  session.  The 
long  and  arduous  work  necessary  to 
adjust  and  compromise  very  funda- 
mental disagreements,  threatened  to 
disrupt  the  Convention  entirely  and 
to  make  its  efforts  a  failure. 

It  was  during  this  period  that 
Franklin  made  the  proposal  that 
"prayers  imploring  the  assistance  of 
Heaven  ...  be  held  in  this  Assembly 
every  morning."  This  proposal  was 
never  put  to  a  vote.  Had  it  been, 
perhaps  many  of  the  difficulties  en- 
countered might  have  been  much 
more  easily  surmounted.  To  both 
Franklin  and  Washington  belongs 



the  credit  for  reconciling  the  great 
differences  and  disputes  among  the 
delegates  and  in  bringing  about  ac- 
ceptable compromise  solutions. 

Procedure  of  the  Convention 

The  Convention  had  full  power 
to  make  its  own  rules,  and  very 
early  in  its  discussions  it  was  decided 
that  voting  should  be  by  states,  each 
state  having  one  vote,  and  that 
meetings  would  be  held  in  executive 
session  in  order  that  the  delegates 
would  be  in  a  position  to  speak 
freely.  Nothing  was  to  be  made 
public  until  the  work  of  the  Con- 
vention was  finished.  The  delegates, 
to  a  remarkable  degree,  respected 
the  decision  to  keep  the  work  of  the 
Convention  confidential.  Sentries 
were  even  posted  at  the  doors  of  the 
Convention  hall  to  keep  anyone 
from  finding  out  what  was  going 

To  illustrate  how  little  news  of 
the  business  of  the  Convention 
leaked  out  to  the  public,  after  the 
sessions  had  ended,  a  woman  ac- 
quaintance of  Franklin  asked  him, 
''Well,  Doctor,  what  have  we  got, 
a  republic  or  a  monarchy?"  He  re- 
plied, *'A  republic,  if  you  can  keep 
it."  This  incident  occurred  in  Phil- 
adelphia in  the  city  where  the  Con- 
vention held  all  of  its  meetings. 

A  secretary  was  appointed  and  a 
daily  journal  was  kept.  The  Con- 
vention Journal  was,  in  reality,  only 
a  record  of  the  motions  put  and 
votes  taken  thereon.  It  shed  little 
light  upon  the  actual  proceedings 
and  debates.  It  is  to  James  Madi- 
son that  we  are  indebted  for  by  far 
the  most  illuminating  and  compre- 
hensive record  of  what  went  on  in 
the  debates. 

Preparedness  oi  Virginia  Delegation 
The  Virginia  delegation  was  ex- 
pected to  play  a  prominent  role  in 
the  Convention.  It  fully  lived  up 
to  all  prior  expectations.  Besides 
Washington,  it  was  made  up  of 
James  Madison,  Governor  Edmund 
Randolph,  nominal  head  of  the  del- 
egation, George  White,  and  George 
Mason,  who  were  prominent  law- 
yers, and  others.  James  Madison 
was  to  prove  to  be  the  political  ex- 
pert of  the  Convention  and  was 
destined  to  play  a  dominating  role 
in  the  framing  of  the  Constitution. 
In  importance  he  stood  next  to 
Washington.  This  delegation,  fur- 
thermore, represented  what  might 
be  termed  the  large  state  faction  of 
the  Convention,  which  was  de- 
termined to  create  a  strong  national 
government  to  cure  the  weakness 
and  impotence  of  the  Confedera- 
tion. The  members  of  the  Virginia 
delegation  were  prepared.  After  the 
Convention  was  organized  they 
came  forward  with  fifteen  proposals 
in  the  form  of  resolutions  to  be  con- 
sidered by  the  Convention. 

Work  by  Committees 

The  actual  work  of  the  Conven- 
tion (to  be  studied  in  lesson  7)  was 
done  by  committees.  The  Virginia 
proposals  were  placed  before  the 
Convention  and  were  immediately 
referred  to  the  Committee  of  the 
Whole  where  they  were  taken  up 
one  by  one.  The  Committee  of  the 
Whole  studied  and  debated  these 
resolutions  for  two  weeks,  and  then 
reported  back  to  the  Convention  in 
the  form  of  nineteen  resolutions. 
The  nineteen  resolutions  were  like- 
wise taken  up  and  debated  one  by 



one.     Other  proposals,  some  from 
the  outside,  were  also  considered. 

The  work  of  the  Convention  pro- 
ceeded in  this  way  until  July  26, 
1787.  As  yet  not  one  line  of  the 
Constitution  had  been  written,  but, 
with  agreement  reached  upon  each 
proposal  considered,  the  Conven- 
tion referred  to  the  Committee  of 
Detail  the  actual  draftsmanship  of 
the  accepted  proposals.  It  was  the 
duty  of  this  committee  to  reduce 
the  abstract  proposals  which  had 
been  approved  into  concrete  form. 

Making  the  Draft  of  the 

The  Committee  of  Detail  worked 
with  tireless  energy  and  industry, 
and,  on  August  6,  1787,  reported  to 
the  Convention  and  furnished  every 
member  with  a  proposed  draft. 
Then  the  work  of  consideration  be- 
gan over  again.  Section  by  section 
and  Hne  by  line  the  delegates  con- 
sidered this  draft  from  beginning 
to  end.  Matters  of  disagreement 
were  again  referred  to  special  com- 
mittees. Changes  were  made  and 
incorporated  until,  finally,  on  Sep- 
tember 8,  1787,  the  work  of  con- 
struction was  complete. 

With  this  accomplished,  the 
work  still  went  on,  and  the  Consti- 
tution was  placed  in  the  hands  of 
the  Committee  of  Style  to  revise 
the  style  and  arrange  the  articles 
which  had  been  agreed  to.  The 
Committee  of  Style  was  composed 
of  Gouverneur  Morris  and  James 
Wilson,  delegates  of  Pennsylvania. 
Morris  wrote  out  the  Constitution 
in  his  own  hand  and  in  a  style 
which  has  ever  since  made  it  famous 
as  an  example  of  lucid  English  ex- 
pression. For  its  language,  alone,  the 

Constitution  stands  among  the  great 
documents  of  history. 

The  Constitution  as  a  document 
is  relatively  simple  in  form.  Its 
language  is  noted  for  its  clarity,  di- 
rectness of  expression,  and  con- 
ciseness. It  contains  about  six  thou- 
sand words  and  is,  therefore,  brief, 
as  such  documents  go.  It  contains 
no  surplus  verbiage  of  any  kind. 

The  Committee  of  Style  reported 
its  work  to  the  Convention  on 
September  12, 1787.  There  were  still 
further  revisions  until,  finally,  the 
completed  work  was  finished  on 
September  17,  1787.  On  that  day 
the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States  was  signed  by  thirty-nine  del- 
egates of  the  twelve  states  repre- 
sented in  the  Convention. 

Franklin's  Statements 

In  his  final  words  to  the  Conven- 
tion, Benjamin  Franklin  said,  "It 
astonishes  me,  sir,  to  find  the  sys- 
tem approaching  so  near  to  perfec- 
tion as  it  does."  Franklin  was  past 
his  eightieth  year  when  named  as 
a  member  of  the  Pennsylvania  dele- 
gation. He  was  feeble  (Farrand, 
Fathers  of  the  Constitution,  page 
113)  and  made  his  greatest  contri- 
bution by  wise  suggestions  and  con- 
ciliation. During  the  signing  of 
the  Constitution  he  made  the  re- 
mark that  during  the  Convention 
''often  and  often"  he  had  looked  at 
the  sun  which  was  painted  on  the 
president's  chair,  not  knowing 
whether  it  represented  a  rising  or  a 
setting  sun.  He  then  said:  ''Now, 
at  length,  I  have  the  happiness  to 
know  that  it  is  a  rising  and  not  a 
setting  sun." 

Completion  of  the  Constitution 
The  writing  of  the  Constitution 






I  Walked  Today  Where  Jesus 

Walked— O'Hara  -.-  .22 

King  of  Glory— Parks  20 

Let  the  Mountains  Shout  for 

Joy — Stephens 15 

Lord  Bless  You  and  Keep  You — 

Lutkin   20 

Oh,  May  I  Know  the  Lord  As 

Friend — Madsen  20 

Teach  Me  to  Pray — Jewitt  15 

That  Sweet  Story  of  Old— West 20 

Thanks  Be  to  God — Dickson 16 

Twenty-Third  Psalm — Schubert  18 

Voice  in  the  Wilderness — Scott 22 

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fIRST   Of    ALL-KiUABIinY 

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lines  ^ 

$AiT   LAIff   Cirr  >.  UTAH 

was  indeed  a  memorable  accom- 
plishment. The  work  and  proceed- 
ings of  the  Convention  provide  a 
guide  and  a  pattern  that  all  bodies 
who  seek  to  enact  laws  or  create 
systems  of  government  to  govern 
men  ought  to  follow.  The  approach 
to  this  great  and  important  task  was 
influenced  in  no  small  degree  by 
the  admonition  of  Washington, 
who  said:  "Let  us  raise  a  standard 
to  which  the  wise  and  the  honest 
can  repair;  the  event  is  in  the  hands 
of  God/' 

Who  would  cavil  at  the  state- 
ment of  Washington?  Certainly  not 
a  Latter-day  Saint.  The  event  was 
indeed  in  the  hands  of  God,  and 
through  wise  men  raised  up  for  that 
very  purpose  the  Constitution  had 
become  an  accomplished  reality. 


Farrand,  Max:  ThQ  Fathers  oi  the  Con- 
stitution, Yale  University  Press,  1921  (if 

Smith,  Joseph  Fielding:  The  Piogress  oi 
Man,  pp.  293-294. 

Questions  for  Discussion 

1.  What  was  the  number  of  delegates 
appointed  and  how  many  actually  attend- 
ed the  convention?  What  was  the  aver- 
age attendance? 

2.  What  was  the  method  by  which  the 
convention  did  its  work  in  writing  the 
Constitution?    Was  this  a  good  method? 

3.  How  long  was  the  convention  in 

4.  Who  actually  wrote  the  document? 

5.  Did  the  members  of  the  convention 
have  any  conception  of  the  importance 
of  their  work? 

6.  Name  some  of  the  most  important 
men  of  the  convention.  Did  Thomas 
Jefferson  take  part?  Why  not? 

7.  Discuss  the  difference  between  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  and  the 

Xi/inter  its  for   // Comers 

Lucille  Waters  Mattson 

Spring  may  be  for  romance,  summer  for  children,  autumn  for  thanksgiving,  but 
winter  is  for  mothers.  The  first  snowfall  should  touch  the  spring  of  anticipation  in  a 
mother's  heart  as  it  does  in  a  child's.  Romps  in  the  snow  with  the  children,  snowball 
fights,  or  making  snowmen  are  delightful  experiences. 

A  young  mother  once  said  to  me,  "All  I  do  all  winter  is  put  on  little  overshoes 
and  snowsuits  and  take  them  off  again."  I  thought,  what  a  lovely  opportunity  to  kiss 
a  rosy  face,  as  it  looks  up  for  help  with  strings  and  buttons.  What  better  time  to 
teach  orderhness  and  care  of  clothes? 

Days  too  wet  or  cold  for  outside  play  are  jewels  of  love  set  in  memory  by  such 
simple  things  as  making  cookies  together,  or  painting  a  page  in  a  color  book,  or  letting 
imaginations  run  wild  in  make-believe. 

Summer  widens  the  world  for  children,  trails  beckon,  friends  call,  and  many  in- 
fluences and  interests  exclude  mother  a  little,  but  winter  is  mother's  own  time.  Time 
to  correct  a  word  of  slang  picked  up  outside  the  home,  time  to  teach  righteousness, 
and  honesty  and  generosity.  A  time  when  mother  is  the  center  of  the  small  child's 
interests,  winter  is  a  golden  opportunity  for  weaving  memories.  Stories  by  the  fire, 
stories  from  scripture,  fine  music,  and  poetry  will  long  be  remembered.  Long  evenings 
are  for  confidences  from  little  lips,  while  popping  corn  or  pulling  candy. 

A  warm,  bright  home  in  a  world  of  cold,  gray  skies  is  the  loom  upon  which 
mothers  may  weave  the  perfect  pattern  of  the  gospel.  Not  by  preaching,  but  by 



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Wind  whines  down  from  the  gullies. 
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PERMIT  No.  690 


NOV    54 



David  O.  McKay,  Pres. 


Salt  Lake  City    -    Utah 


[L  '*^-- 


iissons,  for  May 



(glacier    1 1  iountain 

Hazel  Loomis 

Ye  peaks  that  wait  in  chaste  white  robes! 

Ye  patriarchs  of  stone  and  star! 

Ye  guardians  of  the  stark  white  heights! 

Who  knows  the  depth  of  shadows  in  your  walls? 

Out  of  thy  silence, 



From  out  thy  miles  of  lofty  silence, 

No  song  of  bird,  no  whisper  note. 

No  sound  of  earth-weight  groaning, 

No  shifting  of  cold-washed  stone. 

And  yet  with  earth's  most  ancient  words 

A  glacier 


Thy  voice,  oh,  mountain,  like  mist  rises; 

And  soft,  it  falls,  as  snow  upon  the  fawn. 

No  sound  of  torrents,  no  waves  dashing, 

No  rocks  breaking  on  thy  shores.  Only  peace  .... 

And  I,  a  prodigal,  come  home  ...  to  hear 
in  tones  of  silence 

A  glacier 


The  Cover:   Rushmore  National  Memorial,  Black  Hills,  South  Dakota 
Photograph  by  Josef  Muench 

Frontispiece:  Yosemite  Valley,  California 

Photograph  by  David  Gardner 

Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

Qjrora   I  Lear  and  Qjc 


I  consider  it  an  honor  to  appear  in 
such  a  fine  Magazine.  I  enjoy  so  much 
the  material  in  its  pages.  Many  of  the 
stories  are  excellent,  and  I  consider  the 
poetry  of  the  finest,  I  am  enjoying  the 
articles  "First  Ladies  of  Our  Land/'  by 
Elsie  C.  Carroll,  and  the  fine  articles  on 
the  life  of  President  David  O.  McKay 
by  Jeanette  McKay  Morrell. 

— Myrtle  M.  Dean 

Provo,   Utah 

I  feel  I  should  write  saying  how  thrilled 
I  am  getting  The  Relief  Society  Magazine. 
I  love  to  read  the  stories  in  it  and  the 
lessons,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  in  every 
way  it  is  a  publication  worthy  of  a 
Relief  Society  organized  by  the  true 
Prophet  of  God. 

— Maude  H.  Begay 

Kaibeto  Store 
Tonalea,  Arizona 

The  lovely  poetry  in  our  Magazine  al- 
ways gives  me  a  great  deal  of  pleasure. 
I  usually  read  "Woman's  Sphere"  and  a 
few  of  the  poems  before  I  settle  myself  to 
reading  the  rest  of  the  articles. 

— Mrs.   Bertha  F.  Cozzens 
Powell,  Wyoming 

I  would  like  to  take  this  opportunity  to 
express  my  appreciation  for  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine.  When  I  was  residing  in 
the  "States"  I  was  always  interested  in 
the  contributions  from  the  lands  across 
the  seas,  never  dreaming  that  one  day  I, 
too,  would  be  in  the  "From  Near  and 
Far"  department.  It  is  a  wonderful  feel- 
ing to  walk  into  a  group  of  strange  people, 
miles  from  home,  and  know  that  you  are 
one  with  them,  for  that  is  the  reception 
I  received  from  the  good  sisters  in  the 
Liverpool  Branch.  I  had  read  of  their 
activities  in  the  Magazine,  now  they  are 
my  activities,  also.  The  Magazine  is  a 
link  with  home.  I  enjoy  every  page  and 
certainly  don't  want  to  miss  a  copy. 
— Mrs.  Virginia  Gott 

Burtonwood,  Lancashire, 

As  a  past  Rehef  Society  president  and 
literature  leader,  I  have  the  deepest  love 
and  respect  for  the  organization's  Maga- 
zine. We  have  recently  moved  from  Salt 
Lake  City  to  Baldwin  Park,  California. 
It  has  been  an  inspiration  and  a  testimony 
to  us  to  be  welcomed  and  accepted 
among  the  Latter-day  Saints  here  in  such 
a  short  time.  It  makes  us  realize  that 
the  work  we  are  engaged  in  is  truly  all 

— Margaret  B.  Coombs 
Baldwin  Park,  California 

I  enjoy  reading  the  wonderful  stories 
and  articles  in  the  Magazine,  also  the 
poetry,  I  enjoy  Relief  Society  work  very 
much  and  one  day  decided  to  try  to  write 
a  few  lines  in  appreciation: 

"Charity  never  faileth" 
Has  ever  been  your  creed. 
You  comfort  the  sad  and  lonely 
And  provide  for  those  in  need. 

Seek  knowledge,  honor  womanhood, 
Love  beauty,  truth,  and  light — 
These  and  other  virtues 
You  have  taught  with  all  your  might. 

Now,  as  we  view  your  accomplishments 
Of  all  the  years  gone  by. 
We  know  you  were  inspired 
By  him  who  dwells  on  high. 

So  may  God  guard,  protect,  and  guide  you 
And  all  your  daughters  fine; 
May  the  glorious  work  continue 
Until  the  end  of  time. 
— Maud  Hyer 

Lewiston,  Utah 

I  just  received  the  July  issue  of  The  Re- 
lief Society  Magazine,  and,  as  always,  have 
enjoyed  it  thoroughly.  May  I  take  this 
opportunity  to  tell  you  how  much  the 
Magazine  has  meant  to  me  here  in  Cen- 
tral America.  For  two  years  it  has  been 
my  only  link  with  Relief  Society.  The 
beautiful  poems,  stories,  messages  from 
the  Authorities,  and  the  lessons  are  truly 
soul  inspiring,  and  I  am  very  grateful  for 
each  issue. 

— Rachel  Greenland 

Sucursal,  Salvador 

Page  74 


Monthly  Publication  of  the  Relief   Society  of   The  Church   of   Jesus   Christ  of   Latter-day    Saints 


Mary  G.  Judd 
Anna  B.  Hart 
Edith  S.  Elliott 
Florence  J.  Madsen 
Leone  G.  Layton 
Blanche  B.  Stoddard 

Editor     - 
Associate  Editor 
General  Manager 

Belle  S.  Spaflord 
Marianne  C.  Sharp 
Velma  N.  Simonsen 
Margaret  C.   Pickering 

Evon  W.  Peterson 
Leone  O.  Jacobs 
Mary  J.  Wilson 
Louise  W.  Madsen 
Aieine  M.  Young 
Josie  B.  Bay 


First  Counselor 

Second  Counselor 

-  Secretary-Treasurer 

Christine  H.  Robinson        Charlotte  A.  Larsen 

Alberta  H.  Christensen 

Nellie  W.  Neal 

Mildred  B.  Eyring 
Helen  W.  Anderson 
Gladys  S.  Boyer 

Edith  P.  Backmon 
Winniefred  S. 
Elna  P.  Haymond 


Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Vesta  P.  Crawford 

Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  41 


NO.  2 



'Teast  Upon  the  Words  of  Christ"  Louise   W.   Madsen     76 

In  Memonam  —  Matthew  Cowley  —  or  the  Man  of  Many  Friends  Spencer  W.  Kimball     78 

bocial  Activities  in  Relief  Society  Blanche  B.    Stoddard     83 

To  Washington Lucille  Waters   Mattson  107 


■'Beside  the  Still  Waters"  —  Second  Prize  Story  Mary  Ek  Knowles     81 

Valentine  for  Susan  Dorothy  Oakley  Rea     92 

The  Right  Touch Cecil   Pugmire  101 

Ihe  Deeper  Melody— Chapter  5  Alice  Morrey  Bailey  112 


From  Near  and  Far  .  74 

Sixty  Years   Ago  % 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona'W." Cannon  97 

Editorial:   "Forgetting  Self"  Vesta  P.   Crawford  98 

Birthday  Greetings  to  Former  President  Amy  Brown  Lyman  99 

Notes  From  the  Field:  Relief  Society  Activities  Margaret  C.  Pickering  117 


Hobbies  Help  to  Keep  Her  Young   (Lillie  Walker)  106 

From  Cedar  Chest  to  Dressing  Table Clara  Laster  108 

The  Finest  Career  of  All  Pauline  M.  Henderson  110 

Lost  Mittens?  Elizabeth   Williamson  1 1 1 


Theology:    Alma,  Son  of  Alma  Leiand  H.  Monson  124 

Visiting  Teacher  Messages:     "Seek  Not  to  Counsel  the  Lord,  But  to  Take  Counsel  From 

His  Hand"  Leone  O.   Jacobs  128 

Literature:     Charlotte  Bronte  Briant   S.    Jacobs  132 


Glacier   Mountain — Frontispiece   Hazel    Loomis     73 

In  Tune  Anna  H.  Michie     80 

Heart  Tones   Ida    Isaacson     91 

For  Such  As  This  Pansye  H.  Powell  100 

Valentine   for  Rosemary Ethel    Jacobson  105 

Forever  the  Dream  Mary  Gustafson  105 

Frost   Lucy  Woolley   Brown  106 

Bread  „ Christie   Lund   Coles  107 

Late   Blizzard   Maryhale    Woolsey  107 

Day's  End  Gertrude  T.   Kovan  109 

Because  of  Me  Bertha  A.   Kleinman  123 

Cycle  Louise   Morris  Kelley  131 


Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah,  Phone  4-2511;  Sub- 
scriptions 246;  Editorial  Dept.  245.  Subscription  Price:  $1.50  a  year;  foreign,  $2.00  a  year; 
payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
back  numbers  can  be  supplied.  Renew  promptly  so  that  no  copies  will  be  missed.  Report  change 
of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Acceptance  for  mailing  at  special  rate  of  postage  provided  for  in 
section  1103,  Act  of  October  8,  1917,  authorized  June  29,  1918.  Manuscripts  will  not  be  returned 
unless  return  postage  is  enclosed.  Rejected  manuscripts  will  be  retained  for  six  months  only. 
The  Magazine  is  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 

"Feast  Upon  the  Words  of  Christ'-' 

Louise  W.  Madsen 
Member,  General  Board  of  Relief  Society 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference, 

October  i,   1953] 

Wherefore,  I  said  unto  you,  feast  upon  the  words  of  Christ;  for  behold,  the  words 
of  Christ  will  tell  you  all  things  what  ye  should  do  (2  Nephi  32:3). 

HOW  plain,  how  simple,  yet 
how  wonderful  are  those  few 
words,  and  how  great  is  the 
promise  contained  therein.  How 
satisfying  is  the  security  of  knowing 
exactly  where  to  find  guidance  for 
all  that  we  do.  ''Let  not  your  heart 
be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be  afraid/' 
for  ''the  words  of  Christ  will  tell 
you  all  things  what  ye  should  do." 

Now,  the  words  of  Christ  are 
many,  and  are  found  in  several  vol- 
umes of  scripture,  but  if  we  search 
diligently,  always,  we  will  find  the 
answer  to  that  which  we  seek.  It 
is  there  in  plainness,  but,  if  per- 
chance, we  do  not  fully  compre- 
hend, the  Lord  "giveth  light  unto 
the  understanding"  of  those  who 
ask  him  for  it. 

Nephi  places  squarely  on  our 
shoulders  the  responsibility  of 
knowing  what  the  "words  of  Christ" 

Wherefore,  now  after  I  have  spoken 
these  words,  if  ye  cannot  understand 
them  it  will  be  because  ye  ask  not,  neith- 
er do  ye  knock;  wherefore,  ye  are  not 
brought  into  the  light,  but  must  perish 
in  the  dark  (2  Nephi  32:4). 

And  James  says  it  this  way:  "If 
any  of  you  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask 
of  God,  that  giveth  to  all  men  lib- 
erally, and  upbraideth  not;  and  it 
shall  be  given  him"  (James  1:5)- 
We,  of  all  people,  know  that  this 
procedure  brings  results,  assuming, 
of  course,  that  we  prayerfully  and 
worthily  ask  of  God.     Nephi,  hav- 

Page  76 

ing  had  the  same  experience  as  the 
Prophet  Joseph  Smith,  in  asking  for 
and  receiving  information,  says: 
"Yea,  I  know  that  God  will  give 
liberally  to  him  that  asketh.  Yea, 
my  God  will  give  me,  if  I  ask  not 

Concerning  the  word  of  God,  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  meaning- 
ful visions  ever  vouchsafed  to  man 
was  given  to  Lehi.  He  stood  by  a 
tree,  the  fruit  of  which  he  found 
"desirable  to  make  one  happy,"  for, 
as  he  ate  of  it,  his  soul  was  filled 
with  peace  and  joy  unspeakable. 
Near  the  tree,  a  great  river,  muddy 
and  filthy,  rolled  turbulently  along. 
The  head  of  the  river  could  be  seen 
in  the  distance,  and  from  it  to  the 
tree  was  a  straight,  narrow  path, 
bordered  by  a  rod  of  iron  to  which 
one  could  hold  and  thus  avoid  fall- 
ing into  the  river.  Across  the  riv- 
er was  a  great  concourse  of  people 
"many  of  whom  were  pressing  for- 
ward, that  they  might  obtain  the 
path  which  led  unto  the  tree."  And 
as  they  gained  the  path,  great  mists 
of  darkness  arose,  insomuch  that 
many  who  had  found  the  path 
were  lost  and  wandered  away  in 
the  darkness.  But  those  who  came 
forth  and  caught  hold  of  the  rod  of 
iron,  and  clung  to  it  through  the 
mists,  and  followed  it  tenaciously, 
were  able  to  reach  and  partake  of 
the  fruit  of  the  tree. 

The  explanation  of  the  vision 
was  given  through  inspiration.  The 


tree    shown    to    the    prophet    was  commission  .  .  .  "to  him  that  know- 

the  tree  of  hfe,  and  its  fruit  the  eth  to  do  good,  and  doeth  it  not, 

salvation  of  the  soul.    Of  the  rod  to  him  it  is  sin"   (James  4:17). 

of  iron  it  is  written:  Our  Father  in  heaven  helps  us 

That   it  was   the   word   of  God;   and  extensively    when    we    try    to    do 

whoso  would  hearken  unto  the  word  of  right. 

God,  and  would  hold  fast  unto  it,  they  a    j    r    ..         ^     .1.  .   .x,       v.-ij          c 

would    never    perish;    neither    could    the  ^"1  '^  \'''  ^^  ^^^^  }^^  children  of 

temptations  and  the  fiery  darts  of  the  ad-  ^^^^  ^^^        •  ^^^T'^^'^'^^f'    ^^    God 

versary    overpower    them    unto    blindness,  }^   ^^^^    "°""'^  ^^^"^'    ^"\  strengthen 

to  lead  them  away  to  destruction  (I  Ne-  ^^^"^^   ^"^  fTl^  "1".""'   ^^.T^^   ^^^^ 

phi  11: -^4)  ^^"   accomphsh  the   thmg  which  he  has 

commanded  them  (I  Nephi  17:3). 

The  river  of  foul  waters  typified  ^-l  ,. 
the  great  gulf  separatmg  ''the  wicked  ,  Obedience,  then,  may  be  said  to 
from  the  tree  of  life,  and  also  from  \^  the  first  law  of  heaven.  It  is 
the  saints  of  God."  The  mists  of  *^^*  obedience  that  the  Lord  re- 
darkness  were  the  temptations  of  2;^^'^.'  ^^  ^'^  "P°"  ^,^^^J^,  ^l  ^"^ 
53|-3j^  blessings  are  predicated.  Obedience 

is  a  source  of  power,  enabling  us  to 

T*HE  present  is  an  age  character-  do   the  will   of   God,   much   as   is 

ized  by  great  mists  of  darkness  prayer  a  source  of  power.   In  obedi- 

and  evil,  and  we  need  to  be  con-  ence  lies  happiness.   We  remember 

cerned  with  clinging  to  the  rod  of  that   at   one   period    the   Nephites 

iron,  and  the  word  of  God.     We  were  living  in   great  righteousness 

must  hold  fast  to  the  rod,  for  the  and    obeying    the    commandments, 

mists  of  darkness  are  dense  and  con-  and   the  historian  stated   that   the 

fusing;  and  it  is  easy  to  let  go,  and  people  ''lived  after  the  manner  of 

slip  and  slide  and  fall.  happiness"   (2  Nephi  5:27). 

Not   only    must  we   feast   upon  The  world   needs   to   be   taught 

the  words  of  Christ  and  keep  a  firm  righteousness,    and    is    best   taught 

hand  on  the  rod  of  iron,  but  we,  by  the  word  and  example  of  those 

as   mothers   and   members   of   Re-  who  know  the  words  of  Christ  and 

lief  Society,  must  be  "doers  of  the  do  the  will  of  the  Father.    Surely 

word"  (James  1.22).    The  purpose  the    more    than    140,000    women, 

of  the  Lord  in  placing  us  on  this  members   of  Relief  Society,   living 

earth   is   to  see   if  we  will  do  all  with   this   in   mind,   can   influence 

things   he   has   commanded   us   to  the  lives  and  actions  of  many! 

do.  When  we  have  done  these  things. 

It    is   not   enough    to    read   and  then  we  may  truly  pray  with  Nephi, 

study    about    the    gospel    of    Jesus  ''O    Lord,   wilt    thou    encircle    me 

Christ,   but  we  must  actually  live  around   in   the   robe   of   thy   right- 

and    do    his   word    and    his    work,  eousness!"  (2  Nephi  4:33). 

Obedience  to  Christ's  words  must  That  we  may  all  be  so  encircled 

often    be   in   the   form    of   action,  in  the  robe  of  righteouness  because 

There  are  many  things  that  we  must  we   have   feasted   upon   the  words 

do  for  him,  for  our  fellow  men,  and  of    Christ    and    thereby   know    all 

for  ourselves;  as  there  are  sins  of  things  what  we  should  do,  is  my 

omission  fully  as  wrong  as  sins  of  prayer. 

tfn  m 


Matthew  Cowley,  or  The  Man  of 

Many  Friends 

(August  2,   1897— December  ^3?  ^953) 

EJder  Spencer  W.   Kimball 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 


IF  A   DESCENDANT  of   Lehi 
were  coining  a  descriptive  name 
for  Elder  Matthew  Cowley  as  is 
the   custom,   he   might   likely   call 
him  The  Man  of  Many  Friends. 

The  Tabernacle  full  of  loving 
folks  at  his  funeral  spoke  silent  but 
eloquent    testimony    to    the    love 

Page  78 

which  this  great  apostle  drew  from 
his  many  friends  who  came  long  dis- 
tances to  pay  tribute. 

Brother  Cowley  had  a  pattern  all 
his  own.  No  other  was  like  him. 
With  a  meeting  finished  he  often 
picked  up  his  hat  and  coat  and 
wandered  down  the  block.  He 
stopped  at  the  small  cleaning  shop, 
the  candy  counter,  at  the  elevator, 
or  paused  on  the  sidewalk  to  talk  to 
people  who  were  not  often  touched 
by  others,  and  when  he  left  them 
they  who  had  been  discouraged 
were  smiling,  and  they  who  had 
been  groping  in  darkness  at  midday 
had  taken  a  firmer  hand-hold. 

The  Lord  exhorted  his  people  to 
extend  invitations  to  dinner,  not  to 
friends,  kinsmen,  and  rich  neigh- 
bors who  could  return  the  favor, 
but  to  invite  the  "poor,  the 
maimed,  the  lame,  and  the  blind," 
and  those  who  were  less  able  to 
recompense.  This  admonition,  our 
brother  Matthew  took  seriously  to 
heart.  The  humor  of  his  stories, 
the  twinkle  in  his  eye,  the  sincere 
interest  and  concern  he  manifested, 
all  warmed  the  heart  and  stirred 
the  resolve.  The  man  who  had 
lost  his  way  now  had  firmer  grip; 
the  estranged  one  forgave  and  de- 
served   forgiveness;    the    lonesome 


one    now   had    a   friend;   and   the  with  the  Hawaiians,  sat  shoe-less  on 

foreign   born   now   felt   he   had  a  the  floor  with  the  Japanese,  climbed 

countryman.  the  ladder  to  the  top  of  the  stone 

The  Savior's  parable  of  the  ninety  house  of  the  Hopi,  fraternized  with 

and  nine  was  a  part  of  Elder  Cow-  the  Navajo  in  his  hogan,  and  sat 

ley's   philosophy.     He  found   that  cross-legged   in   the   thatched    roof 

the  ratio  was   not  one  but  many  home  of  the  Maori.    In  the  islands 

to  a  hundred,   and  every  day  his  the  people  near  worship  him.  They 

footsteps  led  him  to  the  stumbling  met  the  plane  or  boat  with  smiling 

one  whose  walk  became  stable  by  faces,  and  they  sang  their  farewell 

the  lift  given.     He  gave  vision;  he  songs  with  tearful  hearts  as  he  left 

stiffened    backbones    and    strength-  their    shores.      Peace    had    settled 

ened  determinations.  down  upon  them  and  they  would 

Elder     Cowley     was     eloquent,  live  closer  to  their  Maker  now  that 

Someone  had  urged  him  years  ago  their  loved  leader  had  stirred  their 

to  perfect  his  speech,  and  with  de-  thoughts   and   warmed   their   souls 

termined  effort,  he  had  mastered  a  again. 

vocabulary   of  rich   and   expressive  Tumauki    Cowley,     the    Maoris 

yet  unostentatious  words.  His  voice  called    him.      This    meant,    great 

was  strong  and  penetrating,  his  die-  leader,  big  chief,  or  president.  This 

tion  impressive,  and  people  listened  was  his  title  favored  by  him,  and 

and    absorbed    his    messages.    He  he  glowed  when   they  referred  to 

commended   righteousness  and   at-  him   thusly,   and   as   they  saw  the 

tacked  abuses.  blind  seeing,  the  lame  walking,  and 

The  missionaries  who  came  under  the    sick    recovered    through    the 

his  leadership  in  New  Zealand  re-  power    of    the    Lord     under    his 

turned  home  inspired  and  set.    Al-  hand  of  faith,  they  regarded  their 

most  without  exception  they  have  Tumauki  as  the  Polynesian  prophet, 

remained  true  to  the  faith  and  con-  To  them  he  spoke  ''as  one  having 

tinned  active  in  the  Church.     If  a  authority." 

member  of  this  close-knit  society  The  apostle  had  real  prestige  in 
met  sorrow,  misfortune,  or  tragedy  New  Zealand  not  only  among  the 
the  entire  group  was  at  his  side  Church  members  but  among  the 
with  their  former  president  in  the  natives  generally  and  the  Euro- 
center.  There  were  groceries  as  peans,  the  politicians,  and  even  the 
well  as  prayers.  clerics  of  other  faiths.  With  sec- 
tarian ministers  and  priests  and 
ROTHER  COWLEY  loved  and  others,  he  was  invited  to  participate 
was  loved  by  the  Lehites  in  in  a  national  meeting  to  consider 
both  the  Americas  and  on  all  the  the  welfare  of  the  native  people, 
islands.  He  was  their  champion.  Elder  Cowley  was  called  upon  to 
They  felt  in  a  very  real  sense  that  speak  first  in  the  initial  meeting, 
he  accepted  them  as  friend  and  and  he  was  requested  to  speak  in 
brother.  He  spoke  their  language,  the  Maori  language  as  the  leaders 
ate  their  food,  sang  their  songs,  wished  to  show  how  perfectly  a 
and  dreamed  their  dreams.  He  non-native  could  master  the  Ian- 
walked  lei-covered  in  flower  gardens  guage  when  he  was  sufficiently  in- 



terested   in   them.     He   spoke  flu-  dieted:   'Tumauki  Cowley  will  be 

ently  and  eloquently  in  Maori,  then  the    next    apostle."      At    the    next 

in  English.     Then,  on  the  last  day  general   conference,   October   1945, 

of  the  conference,  he  was  the  only  Matthew  Cowley  was  called  to  the 

speaker.      His    clear    and    sensible  apostleship. 

plan  of  vvelfare  and  individual  initia-  ^hen  I  think  of  Matt  (as  we  af- 

tive  for  his  adopted  people  brought  fectionately  called  him)  I  thing  of 
hearty  approval    and  he  was  asked  '  j,^^  ^^^j  Samaritan  at  rescue  work 

by  Parhament  officials  to  use  their  ^„  t,,^  ^^^^  ^^  j^^i^j^^   j  remember 

tacilities    and    dratt    a    program    m  1.1  ^                          1,4.   •       •         1,0. 

,.           .,1     1  ■                  .^   wg  ci  11  |.j^^  woman   caught   m   sm   subiect 

line   with    his   suggestions.      In   a  ^^  ^^^^^        concerning  whom  the 

couple  of  days  he  had  drawn  up  Redeemer  said,   "Let  him  who  is 

a     document     which     Parhament  ^jj^out  sin   cast   the   first  stone"; 

adopted  and  made  law.  j  ^^^-^-^^  ^^^  jj^^j^  ^^^-^^  ^,^,, 

He   urged   the  people   to  retain  j^^n  being  blessed  in  the  arms  of 

their  language  and  all  that  was  good  t],^  faster;  and  I  think  of  the  vi- 

of  their  traditions   arts,  crafts,  cus-  ^-^^  ^^  p^te^  extending  the  gospel 

toms,  and  to  perpetuate  their  wood  ^^  g,,          j^j  ^f  the  earth, 
carvmg    and    weavmg    for    future 

generations.  Though  I  had  never  met  Brother 

The  death  of  their  friend  and  Cowley  when  he  was  made  a  mem- 
advocate  President  Rufus  K.  Hardy  t)er  of  our  council,  I  needed  only 
brought  sorrow  to  the  islanders  who  ^"^  ^^ip  ^^  Hawaii  with  him  to 
said  in  their  loneliness  that  they  develop  a  deep  admiration  for  his 
were  without  'a  friend  in  court,"  great  but  simple  faith  and  a  sin- 
when  Rahiri  Harris,  a  prominent  cere  affection  which  I  am  sure  will 
Maori,  stopped  them  short  and  pre-  last  through  eternities. 

S/n  oft 


Anna  H.  Michie 

Awake,  oh,  my  soul,  awake! 

Cast  off  the  lowly  sod; 

Knowest  thou  not  that  thou  art  conic 

From  a  wise  and  gracious  God? 

Attune,  oh,  my  soul,  attune! 

Receive  of  eternal  light. 

Walk  thou  with  wisdom,  faith,  and  truth 

Through  the  darkness  of  earthly  night. 

Arise,  oh,  my  soul,  arise! 

Cast  off  the  shackles  of  earth. 

Dwell  thou  in  the  infinite  love 

Of  thy  God  who  gave  thy  spirit  birth. 

Second  LPrize  Stor^ 

.A.nnuai  [Relief  Society  Short  Storif    Contest 

4  4 

Beside  the  Still  Waters" 

Marv  Ek  Knowles 


NATHANIAL  Wellman  wak- 
ened slowly  that  morning, 
and  for  a  short,  wonderful 
time  he  thought  he  was  home  in 
the  big  bed  in  the  east  bedroom. 
Any  moment  now,  Sultan  would 
crow  that  the  day  had  begun,  and 
the  sun  would  spread  a  coat  of  pale 
gold  on  the  window  sill. 

He  lay  there,  eyes  closed,  and  he 
smelled  the  lusty  spring  of  newly 
plowed  fields,  the  smells  of  horses 
and  hay  and  the  barnyard.  He 
thought,  got  to  get  up  now.  Have 
to  plow  today.  He  opened  his 
eyes  then.    He  saw  the  five  white 

iron  beds  in  the  ward,  the  thin 
old  men  who  occupied  them,  and 
disappointment  hit  him  like  a  blow. 

His  farm  was  gone.  Ruby  Paul, 
Amy's  husband,  had  stolen  it  from 
him.  He  was  in  a  six-bed  ward  in 
a  charity  home  for  aged  men.  He, 
Nathanial  Wellman,  who  had 
owned  the  finest  farm  in  the  state, 
who  had  always  paid  his  debts  and 
been  a  respected  figure  in  the  com- 

If  only  he  could  use  his  hands 
he'd  be  out  of  here  and  making 
his  own  way!  Eighty  wasn't  old 
for  a  Wellman!  Nathanial  held 
his  hands  up  and  looked  at  them. 
They  were  large  hands,  but  the 
fingers  were  twisted  out  of  shape 
\^ith  rheumatism.  He  tried  to  rub 
them  together,  hoping  to  get  the 
blood  circulating,  but  after  a  few 
desperate  attempts  he  let  them 
drop  onto  the  coverlet. 

He  lay  there  thinking  of  Ruby 
Paul  and  hating  him.  He  thought 
angrily,  Couldn't  you  see  what 
Ruby  was  like  inside.  Amy?  And 
then  anger  towards  his  daughter 
drained  out  of  him.  Poor  fittle 
Amy!  So  trusting  that  she  couldn't 
believe  anyone  she  loved  could  be 
dishonest,  and  she  had  been  blind- 
ly in  love  with  Ruby. 

Nathanial  took  a  letter  from  the 
drawer  of  his  bedside  table.  He  sat 
there  holding  it  in  his  big,  twisted 

Page  81 


hands,  but  he  didn't  read  it.  He  tell  your  gratitude  to  God/'  That 
knew  what  it  said.  ''Forgive  me,  was  what  John  Lincoln  who  was 
Father  ...  I  didn't  realize  .  .  .  ."  past  ninety  and  had  the  room  down- 
Yes,  he  had  forgiven  long  ago,  stairs  was  always  telHng  him.  "Be 
but  not  soon  enough,  he  thought  grateful  for  a  roof  over  your  head 
with  regret.  For  a  time  he  had  re-  and  food  and  clean  clothes  and 
turned  all  her  letters  unopened,  shoes  on  your  feet.  Be  grateful  for 
This  letter  with  an  Illinois  address  a  bed  at  the  end  of  the  ward  with 
had  come  six  years  later.  By  then  a  window  you  can  open  or  close  as 
he  was   no  longer  angry,  he  only  you  please. 

wanted  to   see  her,   to  learn  how         Nathanial  bowed  his  head.     He 

Ruby  was  treating  her,  and  he  had  prayed   silently,   "Oh,   God,   I   am 

eagerly  opened  the  letter.  grateful  this  day  for  my  many  bless- 

It  was  a  short,  pitiful  little  let-  ^"|^  *  i*  '  i*    i       ^  ^        •  j  tt 

ter,  and  he  could  tell  she  was  not         He  looked  out   he  window.    He 

well,  not  happy.    He  had  answered  ^^^  ^he  brick  wall  of  the  laundry 

T  4.  1       i  4-    t-u^    ^^^-^-^^    ^.^A  and  the  stcaiTi  comiug  out  the  vcut. 
immediately,    but    the    letter    had  &         .       , 

been     returned     unopened     with  Fhere  was  nothing  of  spring  here, 

deceased    written    across    the    en-  I*  '^^d  come  to  him  through  the 

1  open   window   trom   twenty   miles 
velope.  ^  -^ 

^  away. 

If  only  he  hadn't  put  the  deed         ^j^  ^^^^^         ^^  ^^^  ^  ^^H  ^^^^^ 

to  the  farm  in  her  name  that  time  ^^.||  ^^-^^  ^^^  ^^^^^  ^^  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^ 

when  he  thought  he  was  dying  of  ^^^^^j^  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^^  ^^^  |.^^^ 

pneumonia!    If  only  he  hadn  t  tak-  ^-^  driveway.     By  force  of  will  he 

en  that  trip  east  and  left  Amy  home  ^^.^^  ^^  j-^^  ^-^      --^^     ^^  ^^^1^ 

attending  college.  When  he  came  ^^^^^  ^^^        ^^^  -^  ^^^  ^^^  ^^^^^^ 

back  Amy  had  eloped  with  Ruby,  b.^akfast.     There  was  a  patch   of 

and  the  farm  was  sold!  No  doubt  ^^^^   -^  ^^^^^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^      ^^ 

Ruby  had  told  her,   We  11  sell  the  ^^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^^      ^.^^  ^-^  ^^^ 

farm    and    put   the    money    in    an  ^^^^^  ^^  ^^^j^  m^imge  the  hose  if 

equity  for  your  father,  so  when  he  s  ^^j^^eone  would  turn  on  the  tap. 
old  he  won't  have  to  work!    There         pj^       .^^^  ^^^  j^.^  trousers.     He 

had  been  nothmg  he  could  do.  Her  ^^^^^^  ^  ^^^^j^      jj^  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^^^ 

signature  was  legal  and  binding!  knowing    what    would    follow.     It 

came.  "The  same  kettle  of  soup!" 
TIE  replaced  the  letter  in  a  Nathanial  turned  his  head.  Ed- 
drawer.  He  believed  there  had  die  Stringer  was  watching  from  the 
been  a  child.  Ruby's  child!  he  bed  across  the  room.  His  black 
thought.  No  kin  of  mine!  Yes,  eyes  were  alive  with  malice  and 
he  forgave,  but  oh,  if  he  could  mischief,  his  curly  hair  still  blue 
have  only  one  more  spring  on  the  black,  but  there  was  evil  in  his 
farm,  even  one  more  day  to  spend  lined  face  and  nothing  in  the  thin, 
in  the  sunshine!  emaciated  body  to  suggest  the  hand- 
His  spirits  drooped.  Why  wish  some,  dashing  man  whose  boast 
for  the  impossible.  "Count  your  had  been  that  he  could  dance  and 
blessings,     Nathanial.     Every     day  drink  all  night  and  never  show  it. 



''Saint  and  sinner  both  in  the  same 
pot  of  stew!''  Eddie  laughed. 

Nathanial  thought  wryly  that 
here  was  the  supreme  irony  of  life. 
That  of  all  the  people  he  had 
known  in  his  life,  Eddie  Stringer 
should  be  the  one  with  whom  he 
had  to  spend  his  last  days!  He  hur- 
ried into  his  shirt,  his  gnarled  hands 
more  clumsy  than  ever  in  his  haste, 
anxious  to  be  away  from  Eddie  and 
the  things  he  would  say. 

''Remember  when  we  were  kids, 
Nat!"  Eddie  laughed.  "  'You'd  bet- 
ter straighten  out,  Eddie,'  you  said. 
'Or  you'll  end  up  in  jail!'  You, 
working  like  a  horse  in  the  fields!" 
Eddie  sat  up.  "Listen,  all  of 
you  .  .  .  ." 

"Ah,  shut  up!"  Cries  came  from 
the  other  occupants  of  the  ward. 

But  Eddie  paid  no  attention. 
"Nathanial  lived  the  way  the  Good 
Book  said  he  should,  and  we're 
both  in  the  same  kettle  of  soup 

Nathanial  walked  out  of  the 
ward,  his  shoelaces  dangling.  But 
he  did  not  get  out  in  time.  The 
bitterness  was  in  his  heart.  He 
stepped  into  the  linen  closet  in  the 
hall.  He  leaned  his  head  against  a 
shelf  of  towels  that  smelled  of 
strong  lye  and  soap. 

"Why?"  he  asked  himself.  "Why 
have  I  come  to  this  end  along  with 
Eddie?  He  never  did  an  honest 
day's  work  in  his  life.  He  ruined 
the  lives  of  all  he  touched.  I  was 
not  perfect,  but  oh,  I  did  try  to  live 
right  and  yet  now  ....  It  isn't 

It  was  all  he  could  do  not  to  cry. 
But  he  held  back  the  tears.  I  shall 
try  to  go  to  the  end  with  dignity, 
he  thought. 

Who    was    he    to    question    the 

Lord?  He  would  go  out  and 
he  would  forget  Eddie.  But  first 
there  were  his  shoelaces  to  be  tied. 
Tom  Ford  in  the  next  bed  always 
tied  them,  but  Nathanial  would 
not  go  back  into  the  ward. 

He  saw  the  new  nurse.  Miss 
Bandy,  coming  down  the  hallway 
carrying  a  washbasin.  She  was  tall 
and  thin  and  she  looked  unhappy. 
He  stood  there  waiting  patiently. 
She  said,  "You  are  up  and  around 

"I  thought  I  would  water  the 
lawn.    But  my  shoes  .  .  .  ." 

CHE  looked  down.  "Here,  let  me 
lace  and  tie  them  for  you."  She 
laced  his  shoes,  and  he  looked  at 
the  back  of  her  neck.  A  few  ten- 
drils of  hair  had  escaped  from  the 
hard,  tight  knot,  giving  her  neck  a 
young  look.  Miss  Bandy  was  new 
here,  and  Nathanial  had  not  had  a 
chance  to  get  acquainted  with  her, 
but  he  had  met  her  type  before. 
Lonesome  women  who  had  given 
up  hope  of  love  and  romance. 

Miss  Bandy  straightened. 
"There!"  Her  cheeks  were  flushed, 
and  she  was  smihng. 

He  said,  "Thank  you.  You  have 
a  very  pretty  mouth.  Miss  Bandy. 
And  when  you  smile  like  that  your 
whole  face  lights  up." 

"Why,  thank  you,  Mr.  Well- 
man."  She  flushed  with  pleasure. 
Nathanial  knew,  you  make  a  wom- 
an feel  beautiful  and  she  becomes 
beautiful.  She  picked  up  the  wash- 
basin and  walked  away,  and  there 
was  a  spring  in  her  step  now. 

Nathanial  went  into  the  wash- 
room. His  daily  toilet  took  a  long 
time.  Sometimes  he  was  tempted 
to  forget  it,  and  then  hc  would  re- 


member   that  his  wife,   Lucy,  had  ried  back  into  the  home  and  down 

always  praised  him  for  his  neatness,  the  hall  to  Mrs.  Handmacher's  of- 

Once    he    had    done    everything  fice.     But  she  was  very  busy,  going 

quickly,  and  it  had  not  been  easy  through  papers,  answering  the  tele- 

to  learn  patience.  But  now  he  slow-  phone,  telephoning  the  doctor.  He 

ly   and   painfully   washed   his   face  knew    then    he    had    been    selfish, 

and  combed  his  thick  white  hair.  There  were  those  in  the  home  who 

The  part  was  very  crooked,  but  it  were  ill,  and  needed  more  than  a 

was  the  best  he  could  manage.  He  drive  in  the  country, 
brushed  his  teeth.    He  still  had  all 

his    own    teeth    without    decay    in  OE    turned    and    walked    slowly 

them  and  he  could  enjoy  his  food.  down  the  lower  hall.  ''Nathan- 

''Oh,  God,  for  my  blessings  I  am  ial!"     He  heard  his  name  spoken 

grateful  .  .  .  ."  in   a    deep,    gentle   voice.      ''Good 

He  looked  at  his  face  then.  What  morning,  Nathanial." 

did  it  matter  that  people  told  him  He  realized  then  he  was  opposite 

he  had  a  good,  kind  face.     Eddie  the  door  to  John  Lincoln's  room, 

Stringer  had  an  evil  face,  and  yet  but  he  did  not  answer  the  greeting. 

both    of    them    had    come   to   the  He  stood  there  and  looked  at  John, 

same  end.  The  old  man  was  sitting  in  a  chair, 

Nathanial    walked    slowly    down  facing     the     window,     his     profile 

the  stairs  to  the  first  floor,  holding  against  the  light  like  the  head  of 

onto  the  banister.     A  moment  he  an    old    coin    Nathanial   had   once 

hesitated    in    the    archway    of    the  owned.      It   was   a   noble   head,   a 

parlor.    He  had  never  had  a  visitor,  noble  face,  the  sightless  eyes  seem- 

He  told  himself  he  didn't  care,  but  ing  to  see  into  eternity, 

deep,    deep    down    inside   he   kept  Every  day  Nathanial  read  to  John 

hoping.       Someday     the     matron,  from  the  Bible.    John  said,  ''When 

Mrs.  Handmacher,  would  say,  "Mr.  you  read  to  me,  Nathanial,  I  can 

Wellman,  there  is  a  visitor  in  the  feel   the   still   waters   and   see   the 

parlor  for  you."  Good  Shepherd." 

He  turned  and  walked  down  the  But  today  Nathanial  didn't  feel 
long  hall  to  the  front  door.  Who  like  reading  about  still  waters  and 
would  ever  visit  him?  Amy  had  good  shepherds.  He  turned  and 
been  the  last  of  his  family.  He  walked  quietly  away.  It  was  break- 
went  outside  and  walked  towards  fast  time  then,  but  he  could  not 
the  hose  and  the  patch  of  lawn,  and  choke  down  the  food.  He  got  up 
knew  at  once  it  was  a  mistake,  com-  and  went  into  the  hall  and  slowly 
ing  outdoors.  Because  again  spring  walked  up  the  stairs.  He  knew, 
came  to  him,  a  lusty  spring  from  then,  he  could  not  stand  another 
miles  away,  and  his  heart  yearned  day  in  the  home, 
after  the  country,  and  it  was  not  He  would  go  to  bed,  turn  his 
enough— a  small  patch  of  lawn.  face  to  the  wall  and  die.  He  reached 

Maybe  someone  could  drive  him  the  second  floor,  and  the  dbor  to 

out  in  the  country.     For  only  an  his  ward  and  stopped.     He  could 

hour!      He   had    to    go!      He   was  not  face  Eddie  again.  He  thought 

filled  with  excitement,  and  he  hur-  of  the  storage  closet  at  the  end  of 



the  hall.  It  was  quiet  and  dark, 
and  there  was  in  it  an  old  rocking 
chair  with  a  broken  arm. 

He  closed  the  door  and  sat  in 
the  chair.  He  closed  his  eyes  and 
gave  a  great  sigh,  and  after  awhile 
he  sank  into  oblivion.  When  he 
awakened  he  heard  the  rattle  of 
dishes  on  trays  and  knew  it  was 
lunch  time. 

He  had  not  died  then,  he 
thought  with  wry  amusement.  And 
who  are  you,  Nathanial  Wellman, 
to  say  when  you  shall  die?  He 
stood  up.  And  so  God  willed  that 
he  should  live  awhile  longer,  then 
he  would  try  and  go  to  the  end 
with  dignity  and  purpose.  He  would 
try  to  make  the  home  his  place 
''beside  the  still  v/aters." 

He  would  read  to  John  every  day. 
He  would  tell  Miss  Bandy  how 
pretty  she  was.  He  would  tell  her 
every  day,  and  finally  she  would  be- 
lieve him,  and  she  would  be  beau- 
tiful and  some  man  would  see  it 
and  marry  her. 

He  washed  his  face,  and  the  cold 
water  made  his  skin  tingle.  He 
ate  his  lunch  with  appetite  and 
then  he  went  to  John's  room. 
"Hello,  John,"  he  said. 

''Are  you  all  right,  Nathanial?" 
John  sounded  anxious. 

'I'm  all  right  now,  John."  Na- 
thanial could  not  say  why,  but  he 
felt  happy,  as  if  he  had  a  great  deal 
to  look  forward  to.  He  picked  up 
the  big  Bible  with  its  worn  leather 
cover  and  its  large  type.  "And  what 
shall  it  be  today,  John?" 

John  smiled,  'The  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  please,  Nathanial.  Be- 
gin with,  'And  seeing  the  multi- 
tude, he  went  up  into  a  moun- 
tain ....'"  John  folded  his  hands 
and  waited. 

So  Nathanial  read,  and  he  had 
reached,  "Rejoice,  and  be  exceed- 
ing glad  for  great  is  your  reward  in 
heaven,"  when  Miss  Bandy  ap- 
peared in  the  doorway.  "A  visitor 
for  you,  Mr.  Wellman." 

"For  me?"  Nathanial  asked.  And 
after  a  pause.  "Who?" 

She  shook  her  head  and  smiled, 
and  he  saw  that  she  was  wearing 
lipstick  and  had  loosened  her  hair 
a  bit  and  already  she  looked  hap- 
pier. "I  don't  know.  Mrs.  Hand- 
macher  just  said  to  find  you  and 
tell  you  there  is  a  visitor  in  the 

Nathanial  closed  the  Bible  and 
put  it  down.  John  held  out  his 
hand,  and  Nathanial  took  it,  felt 
the  warm  pressure  of  friendship. 
Then,  wondering,  he  went  to  the 

TUST  inside  the  archway  he 
^  stopped.  His  young  brother, 
Charles,  was  standing  there,  smil- 
ing at  him.  Charles  as  he  had  been 
at  twenty.  But  Charles  had  been 
thrown  from  a  horse  and  killed 
when  he  was  a  young  man! 

He  said  a  bit  shortly  because  he 
felt  shaken,  "I  am  Nathanial  Well- 
man.  You  wanted  to  see  me?  Who 
are  you?" 

"I  am  Michael  Paul,  Sir." 

Amy's  son!  With  nothing  of 
Ruby  Paul  about  him.  But  all  Well- 
man!  He  sank  down  weakly  on  a 
chair.  The  boy  pulled  up  a  chair 
and  sat  opposite  him,  and  Nathan- 
ial saw  that  the  boy  sat  as  he  sat, 
on  the  edge  of  the  chair,  with  feet 
braced  wide  apart  as  if  to  get  up 
quickly  and  go  about  his  business. 

He  saw  the  hands  resting  on  the 
knees,  as  his  hands  were  resting, 
and  they  were  broad,  strong,  power- 



ful  hands.  Nathanial  asked,  "Where 
did  you  come  from,  lad?" 

''Chicago,  Grandfather.  You 
don't  mind  if  I  call  you  that?"  he 
asked  anxiously. 

Grandfather  .  .  .  the  first  shock 
had  passed  now  and  realization  was 
deepening.  He  thought,  this  boy 
is  my  own  flesh  and  blood.  And 
all  at  once  the  room  seemed  filled 
with  light  and  hope  and  the  fresh 
clean  smell  of  youth.  He  wanted 
to  reach  out  and  touch  the  firm, 
tanned  flesh,  feel  the  hardness  and 
reality  of  him.  "Yd  like  you  to 
call  me  Grandfather,"  he  said  sin- 

''I  had  a  hard  time  finding  you, 
Grandfather.  I  was  afraid  you 
might  be  dead." 

Nathanial  had  meant  it  to  be 
that  way.  He  had  worked  as  long 
as  he  could,  and  then  when  his 
hands  became  crippled  he  had  lived 
on  his  savings.  When  that  was  gone 
he  had  applied  for  help,  but  with 
the  plea  that  none  of  his  old  friends 
know  about  it. 

'This  was  my  last  hope,"  Mike 
was  saying,  "and  I  had  to  find  you, 

But  not  for  this  brief  visit,  Na- 
thanial wanted  to  cry.  It  would 
have  been  better  if  you  had  never 
come.  He  asked  almost  fearfully, 
"And  so  now  you  have  found  me?" 

"There  are  only  you  and  me  left 
of  all  the  family.  Grandfather." 

Hope  flickered.  That  didn't 
sound  as  if  he  meant  to  go  striding 
out  of  Nathanial's  life.  He  wanted 
to  say,  "It  is  good  not  to  be  alone 
anymore,  Michael."  But  he  held 
back  the  words.  Youth  didn't  want 
to  feel  obligated  and  trapped.  If 
only  the  boy  would  just  come  and 
see  him  once  in  awhile! 

'NSTfTUTE  OF  RFf  rrioM 

^''^'  ^'AH    84/07 

He  asked,  "Where  is  your  fa- 
ther, Michael?" 

"He  died  in  January.  I  .  .  ." 
Mike  hesitated  and  then  went  on, 
bitterness  in  his  young  voice.  "I'm 
trying  not  to  hate  him.  After  all 
he's  dead,  but  ...  he  deserted  me 
a  month  after  mother  died.  He 
left  me  with  neighbors  and  never 
came  back." 

Very  characteristic  of  him,  Na- 
thanial thought  angrily.  "What  did 
vou  do  then?" 

"I  was  put  in  a  home,  and  I 
lived  there  until  I  was  eighteen. 
Then  I  joined  the  Navy.  I've  only 
just  gotten  out  of  service,  and  you 
know  something.  Grandfather?"  he 

"No,  lad,"  Nathanial  said  gently, 

"Mother  used  to  talk  about  you 
a  lot.  She  told  me  how  Dad  had 
cheated  you.  I  was  only  six  when 
she  died,  but  I  never  forgot.  And 
all  the  time  I  was  in  the  home  and 
then  in  the  service  I  thought,  I  have 
a  grandfather  somewhere  and  some- 
day I'll  find  him  and  I'll  buy  a 
farm.  But  I  couldn't  remember  the 
name  of  the  town  where  you  lived, 
only  the  state."  He  grinned  happily. 
"But  now  I  have  found  you!  Will 
you  help  me  pick  out  a  farm  and 
live  with  me?  I  need  you.  Say 
you'll  come!" 

^/'T  need  you  ...  say  you'll  come." 
.  .  .  Nathanial  was  afraid  he  was 
going  to  cry  like  a  weak  old  man 
before  his  grandson.  It  was  a  mo- 
ment before  he  had  control  of 
himself  enough  to  speak,  and  then 
he  held  up  his  crippled  hands. 
"My  hands,  see!  I'd  be  no  good 
to  you  on  a  farm." 



'*It  isn't  your  hands  I  want, 
Grandfather.  Fm  strong  enough 
for  the  both  of  us.  It's  your  ex- 
perience and  advice  I  want." 

Nathanial  could  not  beheve  it 
yet.  He  had  learned  not  to  get 
his  hopes  too  high.  ''A  good  farm 
takes  money.  There's  no  such 
thing  as  cheap  land." 

''Oh,  I've  saved  my  money,  and 
when  Dad  died  his  estate  went  to 
me.    I'll  use  the  money  from  that." 

All  at  once  Nathanial  wanted  to 
stand  and  shout,  ''Hear  that,  Ed- 
die Stringer!  Ruby  took  my  farm, 
and  now  he  gives  it  back  to  me!" 
He  wanted  to  take  this  beautiful 
boy  through  the  wards  and  show 
him  off,  saying,  "Look  at  the  size 
of  him,  the  width  of  those  should- 
ers, the  bigness  of  his  hands.  See 
how  tall  and  fine  he  is!  My  grand- 
son, Eddie  Stringer,  come  all  the 
way  from  Chicago  to  find  his  old 
grandfather!  And  Fm  going  to 
live  with  him,  I'll  spend  my  last 
days  on  the  land!" 

Then  he  was  ashamed  of  him- 
self. He  thought,  my  cup  run- 
neth over!  I  could  not  be  so  mean 
and  small  as  to  flaunt  my  sudden 
good  fortune  in  the  faces  of  those 

who  have  nothing.  Not  even  to 
Eddie  could  he  do  that. 

"There's  enough  money  for  a  big 
down  payment,"  Mike  was  saying. 
"Of  course  we'd  have  a  struggle  at 
first.     Maybe  you  wouldn't  .  .  .  ." 

"A  man  can  only  eat  one  meal 
at  a  time,  Mike,"  Nathanial  said 
eagerly,  "and  wear  one  suit  of 

"Then  you  will  come,  Grand- 
father? I've  spoken  to  the  matron. 
I'll  sign  the  necessary  papers." 

Nathanial  stood  up,  holding  his 
shoulders  back.  He  must  not  trem- 
ble now.  He  said  evenly,  "I  will 
be  happy  to  go  with  you.  We  will 
find  the  finest  farm  in  the  State. 
I'll  pack  my  things  now."  He  knew 
he  was  going  to  cry  then.  That  he 
could  no  longer  hold  back  the 
tears.  He  had  to  turn  and  go  quick- 
ly out  of  the  parlor. 

He  held  the  tears  back  until  he 
reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  He 
let  them  come  then,  let  them  roll 
unchecked  down  his  cheeks.  That 
was  permitted,  surely,  without  loss 
of  dignity,  tears  of  happiness.  Then 
he  brushed  them  away  and  hurried 
up  the  stairs,  his  heart  singing,  "Oh, 
kind  God,  I  am  grateful  this  day." 

Mary  EI:  Knowles,  Ogden,  Utah,  has  written  many  excellent  stories  for  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine.  Her  story  "The  Gold  Watch,"  was  awarded  third  prize  in  the  Re- 
hef  Society  Short  Story  Contest  in  1943,  and  her  story  "Spring  Festival"  received  the 
first  prize  in  1946. 

Mary  was  born  in  Ely,  Nevada,  lived  for  many  years  in  Salt  Lake  City,  and  for 
a  short  time  in  Reno,  Nevada.  Her  family  and  her  writing  are  her  chief  interests. 
"I  have  three  children,"  she  tells  us,  "a  wonderful  husband,  and  a  very  interesting 
mechanical  engineer  father,  Alma  Ek,  who  hves  in  Merced,  Cahfornia.  I  am  hterature 
teacher  for  the  Ogden  Twenty-Third  Ward  Rehef  Society.  Writing  is  my  hobby,  my 
husband  and  children  my  profession.  I  am  a  member  of  the  Blue  Quill,  Ogden  Writ- 
ers Club,  and  the  League  of  Utah  Writers,  and  I  would  suggest  to  any  ambitious 
young  writer  that  she  have  a  family,  the  larger  the  better,  because  a  family,  especially 
the  teen-agers,  are  a  constant  source  of  story  material." 

In  addition  to  the  Church  magazines,  the  work  of  Mrs,  Knowles  has  appeared  in 
Woman's  Day,  Today's  Woman,  The  American  Magazine,  Extension,  and  many  other 

Social  Activities  in  Relief  Society 

Blanche  B.  Stoddard 
Member,  General  Board  of  Relief  Society 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference, 

September  30,  1953] 

IT  was  my  privilege  this  summer 
to  visit  in  the  mission  field  and 
attend  Relief  Society  meetings 
and  socials  there.  I  asked  one  sis- 
ter who  had  recently  been  baptized 
what  had  caused  her  to  come  into 
the  Church.  She  said  she  had 
moved  into  the  community  a  total 
stranger.  One  day  her  neighbor 
invited  her  to  go  to  a  Relief  Society 
work  meeting.  She  met  so  many 
splendid  women,  learned  so  much, 
and  had  such  a  good  time,  she  asked 
to  go  again  to  some  of  the  other 
meetings.  She  became  a  Relief  So- 
ciety member,  then  a  member  of 
the  Church.  Her  mother-in-law, 
who  is  not  a  member,  said  to  her, 
''I  don't  see  why  you  didn't  join 
the  group  to  which  I  belong."  The 
daughter  answered,  'They  did  not 
invite  me."  I  hope  you  and  I  are 
not  passing  up  some  good  oppor- 
tunities with  our  neighbors  because 
we  do  not  give  that  little  invita- 

The  past  months,  as  we  have  held 
conventions  in  your  stakes,  we  have 
emphasized  compassionate  service, 
visiting  teaching,  and  the  education- 
al part  of  the  Relief  Society  pro- 
gram. For  a  few  moments  now,  I 
should  like  to  speak  of  another  very 
important  part,  an  integral  part  of 
the  program— the  social  activities. 
You  and  I  can  sit  together  in 
regular  Relief  Society  meetings 
week  after  week  and  not  know  each 
other.  But  let  us  sit  side  by  side 
making  a  quilt,  enjoying  a  social  af- 

Page  88 

ternoon,  or  serving  together  on  the 
luncheon  committee  at  work  meet- 
ing, and  it  isn't  long  until  we  know 
first  names,  how  many  children 
each  of  us  has,  what  business  our 
husbands  are  in,  and  all  the  things 
that  make  us  know  each  other  bet- 
ter. And  isn't  it  true,  as  a  rule, 
that  the  better  we  know  each  other 
the  better  we  love  each  other?  I 
heard  a  Relief  Society  president,  as 
she  bore  her  testimony,  say,  'There 
are  only  two  kinds  of  people  in  my 
ward,  those  I  love  and  those  I  do 
not  know." 

Relief  Society  activities  provide 
such  an  opportunity  to  make  last- 
ing friendships.  Recently,  after  a 
visiting  teachers  convention  which 
I  attended,  two  sisters  came  up 
holding  hands.  One  said,  ''We 
have  been  visiting  teaching  com- 
panions for  a  year  and  we  just  love 
each  other." 

I  asked,  "If  it  had  not  been  for 
Relief  Society,  would  you  ever  have 

They  would  not,  in  all  probabil- 
ity. We  have  a  unique  social  oppor- 
tunity. We  play,  sing,  work,  and 
pray  together,  welding  ties  of  last- 
ing friendships  based  on  deep  un- 
derstanding of  each  other.  I  am 
sure  you  can  say  with  me,  that  some 
of  your  most  precious  friendships 
began  in  Relief  Society. 

Recognizing  that  friendly  social 
relationships  are  important  to  an 
abundant  life.  Relief  Society  has  in- 
cluded   delightful    social    occasions 



as  a  part  of  its  program.  Through 
its  social  activities,  members  have 
been  brought  into  closer  relation- 
ship and  sisterly  love  has  been 
fostered.  The  social  spirit  has  par- 
ticularly characterized  the  work 
meeting.  It  is  recommended  that 
this  day  be  made  a  happy  social 
day  in  which  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible for  formality  and  stiffness  to 
prevail.  It  is  a  wonderful  time  to 
invite  strangers  and  newcomers  in 
the  ward  to  Relief  Society.  Make 
them  welcome  and  give  them  a 
definite  part  in  the  day's  program. 

A  S  my  companion  and  I  went  vis- 
iting teaching  this  last  week, 
we  were  in  a  district  of  lovely  new 
homes  where  many  of  the  wives 
were  young  women.  Many  of  them 
were  entirely  indifferent,  and  had 
not  been  to  any  of  the  ward  func- 
tions. One  young  mother  said  she 
would  not  be  able  to  go  to  Relief 
Society  because  she  was  so  busy 
decorating  her  home,  making 
lamps  and  drapes,  planting  her 
flowers,  and  making  her  budget 
stretch.    Her  home  came  first. 

What  a  splendid  opportunity  for 
us!  We  explained  in  detail  our 
wonderful  course  in  homemaking 
and  home-management  and  the  so- 
cial activities  of  the  work  meeting. 
Immediately,  she  was  eager  to  come 
on  the  day  that  would  give  her 
these  opportunities.  Now,  if  we 
meet  her  and  make  her  welcome, 
introduce  her  to  other  young  moth- 
ers, and  even  ask  her  to  exhibit 
some  of  the  lovely  things  she  has 
made  for  her  own  home  and  let 
her  partake  of  the  social  spirit  of 
the  day,  I  am  sure  we  will  have  an- 
other enthusiastic  member  of  Re- 
lief Society. 

Many  young  women  have  been 
career  girls  and  now  find  a  lot  of 
time  on  their  hands.  They  are  go- 
ing to  seek  social  outlets  by  join- 
ing clubs  and  other  organizations 
which,  in  our  estimation,  cannot 
begin  to  give  them  the  fine  associa- 
tion and  companionship  that  Relief 
Society  has  to  offer.  I  remember 
one  such  sister.  We  tried  for  years 
to  get  her  to  come  to  Relief  Society. 
Finally,  someone  remembered  that 
she  loved  parties,  loved  to  entertain 
and  prepare  unusual  meals  and  set 
beautiful  tables.  So  we  asked  her 
to  be  chairman  of  the  work  meet- 
ing luncheon  committee  for  the 
year.  She  was  delighted.  She  found 
an  outlet  for  her  talents.  Relief  So- 
ciety was  benefited,  and  she  became 
a  loyal  member. 

As  I  said,  work  meeting  is  prob- 
ably the  best  time  for  enjoyable  so- 
cial activity.  On  vacation  this  sum- 
mer I  visited  a  work  meeting  in  one 
of  the  Idaho  wards.  There  were 
fifty-eight  women  present.  I  knew 
only  three  of  them  at  first,  but  be- 
fore the  day  was  over  I  felt  I  knew 
each  one,  a  Httle  of  her  background 
and  her  home  life.  As  we  quilted 
and  chatted  I  learned  many  inter- 
esting short  cuts  to  homemaking 
and  came  home  with  some  choice 
recipes.    It  was  a  delightful  day. 

Not  long  ago  I  visited  another 
work  meeting.  I  knew  they  had 
a  quilt  to  do  and  I  love  to 
quilt.  We  had  a  pleasant  and  prof- 
itable morning,  but  when  we  went 
in  to  lunch  I  was  amazed  to  find 
they  were  charging  seventy-five 
cents  for  it,  Not  only  amazed,  but 
embarrassed,  because  I  had  not 
brought  my  purse  with  me,  not  an- 
ticipating any  need  for  it.  I  was 
also  a  little  annoyed.     I  was  put- 



ting  in  a  good  five  hours  on  their 
]:)azaar  quilt,  having  fun  Fll  admit, 
l:)ut  I  sort  of  felt  I  was  entitled  to 
my  lunch.  Don't  you  think  I  was? 
Of  course  they  let  me  charge  it  on 
promise  to  pay  later,  but  it  rather 
spoiled  the  day  for  me.  I  hope  no 
sister  in  that  ward  stayed  away  from 
work  meeting  that  day  because  she 
could  not  spare  seventy-five  cents 
for  lunch. 

We  feel  that  sisters  who  come  to 
render  service  should  not  be  ex- 
pected also  to  pay  for  their  lunch. 
Permission  is  given  to  use  Relief 
Society  funds  for  the  purpose  of 
meeting  the  expense  of  simple 
luncheons.  We  feel  that  the  lunch- 
eons are  a  delightful  part  of  the 
day  and  provide  the  sisters  with 
opportunity    to    display    talents    in 

women  to  project  the  program  of 
Relief  Society. 

The  seventeenth  of  March,  our 
birthday,  is  another  splendid  oppor- 
tunity to  show  our  gratitude  and 
appreciation  for  this  great  organ- 
ization. Many  sisters  may  par- 
ticipate in  the  program  on  that  day, 
which  should  be  such  as  to  promote 
sociability  and  a  feeling  of  sister- 

ANOTHER  wonderful  source  of 
social  activity  is  through  our 
Singing  Mothers  organizations. 
What  if  all  the  mothers  in  the 
world  were  singing  mothers! 
Wouldn't  this  be  a  different  old 
world?  I  am  sure  nowhere  else 
could  we  go  to  see  and  hear  what 
we  will  tomorrow,  as  we  listen  to 

table  decorations  and  low-cost,  but      ^^'^^^    Madsen's    Singing    Mothers 

nutritious  menus. 

We  hope  that  Relief  Society 
sisters  will  never  have  to  pay  to  go  to 
the  regular  meetings  other  than  the 

chorus.  There  will  be  daughters, 
mothers,  grandmothers,  and  great- 
grandmothers  singing  together, 
bearing  testimony  together  in 
music.     There  will  be  no  age  nor 

mitial  dues  of  fifty  cents.  I  heard  social  barriers  in  this  group.  We 
of  an  openmg  social  for  which  each  hope  every  ward  will  have  a  Sing- 
sister  was  charged  one  dollar  at  the  jng  Mothers  chorus  comprised  of 
door,  fifty  cents  to  go  as  her  dues,  every  sister  who  desires  to  sing, 
and  fifty  cents  to  swell  the  funds  Sister  Madsen  says  that  if  you  have 
of  Relief  Society.  The  entire  pur-  two  women  who  can  sing  a  duet 
pose  of  the  day  was  defeated,  in  my  together,  it  is  a  nucleus  for  a  Sing- 
estimation.     The  opening  social  is     ^ig    Mothers    chorus.     As    we    go 

about  the  Church  we  are  thrilled 
with  your  singing  groups.  What 
good  times  they  have,  how  they 
learn  to  love  each  other! 

We  feel,  sisters,  that  you  stake  of- 
ficers have  a  great  responsibility  in 
directing  and  maintaining  the  high 

one  of  great  importance.  There 
are  wonderful  opportunities  for  this 
occasion.  Every  woman  in  the 
ward,  whether  she  belongs  to  Relief 
Society  or  not,  should  receive  a 
special  invitation.  She  should  meet 
the  officers  and  the  other  members 
and  should  learn  on  that  day  what      standards  of  the  social  activities 

Relief  Society  has  to  offer  her  and 
the  part  she  has  to  play  in  its  suc- 
cess. It  should  be  a  day  of  dignity 
and  beauty,  an  outlet  for  talented 


Relief  Society.  See  that  they  are 
proper  and  dignified  and  in  keep- 
ing with  the  policies  and  aims  of 
the   organization.      Inspiration    has 



guided  the  destiny  of  Relief  Society, 
and  intrinsic  worth  has  character- 
ized its  activities.  It  was  organized 
by  a  Prophet  of  God  after  the  pat- 
tern of  the  Priesthood.  When  an 
organization  has  such  a  birth,  such 
a  history  as  ours,  we  must  be  care- 
ful to  maintain  its  activities  on  a 
high  plane.  I  once  heard  Sister 
Layton  say  that  when  a  woman 
reaches  a  certain  age,  probably  the 
greatest  possession  left  to  her  is  her 
dignity.  After  all,  Relief  Society 
is  over  a  hundred  years  old,  let  us 
help  her  to  stay  dignified. 

COMETIMES,  because  of  lack  of 
experience  in  Relief  Society,  a 
lack  of  understanding  and  apprecia- 
tion, or  because  of  a  desire  to  catch 
interest  by  introducing  something 
new  and  different,  activities  are  con- 
ducted which  are  not  in  harmony 
with  Relief  Society.  Extreme  and 
offensive  costumes  are  not  becom- 
ing to  women.  When  programs  re- 
quire men,  it  is  more  appropriate 
to  use  men  than  to  have  women 
impersonate  them.  It  is  unbecom- 
ing in  Relief  Society  gatherings  to 
burlesque  things  for  which  we 
should  have  respect  and  reverence. 
Let  us  remember  we  are  the  moth- 
ers of  Israel  and  representatives  of 
the  greatest  woman's  organization 
in  the  world. 

Relief  Society  programs  and  en- 
tertainment   need    not    be    somber 

and  formal.  Under  certain  cir- 
cumstances, they  may  be  light  and 
highly  entertaining.  However,  they 
should  be  more  than  time-wasters, 
which  contribute  nothing  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  Relief  Society  wom- 
en. All  activities  should  be  worthv 
of  the  time  of  Latter-day  Saint 
women  and  reflect  the  ideals  and 
standards  of  our  organization.  Of 
course  we  want  to  have  fun,  we 
want  to  laugh  and  have  a  good 
time.  In  this  time  of  stress  and 
sorrow  and  foreboding,  we  welcome 
fun.  But  we  want  to  go  home  from 
every  Relief  Society  function  with 
something  so  good  that  we  will  be 
lifted  up,  and  with  something  so 
fine  it  will  carry  over  into  our 
homes.  Our  sisters,  especially  many 
of  our  older  sisters,  have  a  great 
need  for  social  life  under  the  super- 
vision of  Relief  Society. 

We  have  such  good  Relief  So- 
cieties all  over  the  Church,  and 
much  good  is  being  done  with  the 
sisters  who  attend.  But  let  us  lend 
every  effort  this  coming  year  in 
reaching  out  after  the  inactive  ones, 
the  indifferent,  those  with  heavy 
hearts  and  slipping  testimonies. 
The  Prophet's  mother  said  we 
must  cherish  one  another.  We  are 
indeed  our  sister's  keeper.  Probably 
there  is  no  better  way  first  to  reach 
her  than  through  our  social  acti\'i- 
ties  in  Relief  Societv. 

cKeart  cJones 

Ida  Isaacson 

There  is  a  time  when  speech  is  cleft; 
When  breath  is  silent,  sound  bereft — 
When  only  heart  tones  climb  into  the  mind 
And  tell  all  that  can  be  told,  or  left  behind. 
Such  moments  as  these  bare  themselves  to  love 
And  no  one  hears  but  two — and  God  above. 

Valentine  for  Susan 

Doiothy  Oakley  Rea 

4  4  /^  RANDMA,  do  you  think  served  through  thin  hps,  as  she  bit 

I    -IT  Fm  pretty?"  the  thread  from  the  dress  she  was 

^-^      Susan  Gray  didn't  turn  hemming, 

to  look  at  her  grandmother  as  she  She  tried  to  sound  unconcerned, 

asked  the  question.    She  continued  but  she  had  hurried  with  the  new 

to  stare  into  the  mirror  at  the  wide  velvet  in  case  Fred  should  ask  Su- 

mouth,  the  smooth,  high  forehead,  san  for  the  prom.    A  heart-shaped 

and   the   deep-set,   blue   eyes   that  corsage  of  violets  and  roses  would 

stared  back  at  her.  have  been  so  pretty  at  the  shoulder. 

''Of  course  I  think  you're  pretty."  Cordelia   Gray   had   wanted   the. 

Grandma   Cordelia   Gray   squinted  best  of  everything   for  her  grand- 

to  thread  her  needle.   ''All  grand-  daughter.     It  wasn't  exactly  selfish 

mothers  think  their  granddaughters  to  want  it  that  way,  she  felt.  It  was 

are  pretty.    Susan,  do  you  think  you  more  like  wanting  to  make  up  for 

are  pretty?"  the  ways  in  which  Susan  had  been 

"No,"     Susan    said    flatly,    and  forced  to  take  short  measure, 

plopped  into  the  big  chair  in  front  As    when    Susan's    mother    had 

of   the  old   fireplace.     She  looked  died  after  Steve,  Susan's  father,  had 

into  the  fire,  remembering  that  in  spent  all  he  could  earn  or  borrow 

her  seventeen  years  she  had  lighted  trying  to  fight  the  ravages  of  her 

many  pine   wood   fires   and   loved  leukemia. 

each   one  a   little   more   than   the  Steve  had  procured  a  good  engi- 

last.  neering  job  in  South  America  after 

"It's  not  that  I  mind  not  being  his   wife   had   died.     He    couldn't 

as  pretty  as  Marie  Woods.    She  is  take  the  baby  daughter  with  him, 

put  together  perfect  as  a  Dresden  so  he  had  left  her  with  his  mother, 

doll.      It's   the   Valentine    I    really  who  had  felt  so  inadequate  when 

care  about.  Grandma."  she  had  looked  at  the  tiny  fluff  of 

"The  Valentine?     I  thought  you  a  girl,  delicate  as  a  pink  shell, 

put  Valentine   notions   away  with  Cordelia  hadn't  had  a  daughter, 

your  last  doll  a  few  years  ago."  She  was  widowed  when  Steve,  her 

"I  don't  mean  those  silly  Valen-  only  son,   was   ten  years   old.   She 

tines  we  liked  in  grade  school.     I  had  sold  the  farm,  keeping  only  the 

mean  like  those  heart-shaped  cor-  family  garden  and  the  house  that 

sages   of   roses   and   violets   at   the  her  husband  had  built  on  the  lower 

corner  florists.     I  saw  Fred  Miller  acre. 

go  in  there,  and  while  I  was  sort  of  They  had  planned  for  a  big  fam- 

standing  by  the  door,  I  heard  him  ily.    The  house  had  three  bedrooms 

order  one  for  Marie."  huddled  under  the  sloping  roof  up- 

"I  guess  that  means  he  will  be  stairs,  and  there  was  the  big  bed- 
taking    Marie    to    the    Valentine  room  next  to  the  parlor, 
prom,"     Grandma     Cordelia  •   ob-  Cordelia  had  taught  in   the  vil- 

Page  92 



lage  schoolhouse  in  those  years 
when  she  had  saved  enough  to 
send  Steve  to  engineering  school. 
She  had  baked  bread,  cakes,  and 
pies  for  ten  famihes  in  Newfield, 
and  with  Dan's  insurance,  she  and 
Steve  had  been  able  to  take  a  prop- 
er place  in  their  community.  They 
had  always  been  offering  the  big 
house  for  fireside  meetings  or 

CTEVE'S  boyhood  had  been  hap- 
py here,  and  when  he  went  away 
to  college,  he  had  had  as  much 
money  as  most  young  men,  and  just 
as  many  of  the  belongings  that  col- 
lege youths  considered  important 
in  those  depression  years  of  the 

It  was  quite  different  now  that 
Susan  was  growing  up.  There 
weren't  any  savings,  and  Grandma 
was  past  the  time  of  teaching  in 
the  school,  which  by  now  was  a 
sprawling  structure  on  the  avenue, 
complete  with  modern  teachers, 
perfect  lighting,  and  adjustable 

Students  at  the  high  school  drove 
their  own  cars— some  even  had  con- 
vertibles, Susan  said.  There  were 
television  sets  in  most  homes,  as 
well  as  the  deep-freeze,  which  sure- 
ly would  have  been  a  boon  in  the 
days  when  Cordelia  had  done  cook- 
ing for  other  families. 

Cordelia  and  Susan  didn't  own 
a  car,  a  television  set,  or  a  deep- 
freeze. Steve  was  able  to  send 
plenty  to  live  on,  but  not  enough 
for  extras. 

Even  so,  the  Gray  house  had 
been  a  joyous  place.  Susan  col- 
lected friends  hke  a  flower  collects 
bees.  They  had  invaded  the  house 
from     bread-and-jelly    kindergarten 

days,  right  up  to  now,  when  they 
gathered  around  the  old  dining- 
room  table  with  their  lessons  or 
popped  pop  corn  and  listened  to 
name  bands  on  the  radio. 

Susan  had  her  share  of  boy 
friends,  but  she  could  see  only 
Fred  Miller.  Cordelia  wasn't  sure 
just  what  Susan  saw  in  the  boy. 
She  thought  he  talked  in  a  strange 

Often  when  he  and  Susan  were 
listening  to  the  radio,  he  would  say, 
''Dig  that  crazy  tune." 

What  was  that  supposed  to 
mean?  Cordelia  wondered. 

His  hair  was  another  thing  that 
was  puzzling.  A  year  ago  he  had 
worn  it  long  behind  with  a  wave 
at  each  temple.  Now,  when  he 
came  over  in  the  evening,  Cordelia 
noticed  it  was  barely  an  inch  long 
and  stood  up  on  his  head  like  a 

'That's  a  butch  haircut.  Grand- 
ma. All  the  boys  have  them," 
Susan  explained.  "It's  a  fad  like 
when  I  wore  my  hair  in  a  pony 

Cordelia  put  the  last  stitch  in 
the  facing  at  the  neckline  of  the 
new  velvet  dress. 

"You  needn't  have  hurried  with 
the  dress.  Grandma.  I  won't  be 
going  to  the  Valentine  prom.  It's 
tomorrow  night,  you  know,  and  I 
haven't  been  asked."  There  was 
the  slightest  quiver  in  the  young 
voice  that  tried  to  sound  noncha- 

"Harry  Daniels  would  take  you 
if  you  would  even  look  his  way," 
Grandma  ventured. 

"It  isn't  honest  to  be  nice  to  a 
boy  just  to  get  a  date  when  you 
don't  especially  enjoy  his  com- 
pany.    You  said  that.  Grandma." 



Cordelia  smiled.  She  had  tried 
to  teach  this  lovely  granddaughter 
some  of  the  social  graces.  Now  she 
found  herself  forgetting  them  in 
her  anxiety  for  Susan's  happiness. 

npHE  next  day  was  Saturday  and 
Valentine's.  If  Susan  was  griev- 
ing about  the  prom,  she  gave  no 
sign.  She  arose  early,  put  on  a 
plain  blouse  and  flowered  skirt,  and 
gave  the  house  a  real  cleaning.  She 
put  a  fresh  bowl  of  apples  on  the 
dining-room  table  and  pine  nuts 
in  the  brass  bowl  on  the  mantle. 

In  the  early  afternoon  she  light- 
ed a  fire  and  sagged  into  the  big 
chair  with  a  magazine,  while  Cor- 
delia got  ready  and  went  market- 

There  was  a  high  blue  sky  on  the 
afternoon  of  St.  Valentine's  Day. 
Melting  snows  clung  to  the  shady 
places,  but  the  sidewalks  were  dry. 
Cordelia  brushed  away  some  leaves 
as  she  passed  the  garden  fence.  The 
violets  were  coming  up,  she  no- 

Seeing  the  violets  push  up  their 
green  leaves  made  her  think  again 
of  the  corsage  Susan  had  men- 

''It  seems  to  me  that  I  love  Su- 
san as  much  as  anyone  loves  her. 
Why  shouldn't  I  send  her  a  Valen- 
tine?" Cordelia  was  thinking. 

She  walked  a  little  faster  with  a 
little  more  color  in  her  cheeks. 

There  was  the  corsage  in  the 
florist's  window— heart-shaped,  with 
violets  and  roses. 

''Will  you  deliver  one  of  those 
to  Susan  at  my  house?"  she  asked 
the  florist. 

"Sure  will,  Mrs.  Gray.  We've 
delivered  lots  of  them  to  the  high 
school  girls  today." 

Cordeha  paid  for  the  flowers  and 
hurried  out  onto  the  street.  She 
shouldn't  have  bought  the  flowers, 
she  thought.  Now  the  florist  will 
be  wondering  why  some  young  man 
didn't  order  flowers  for  Susan. 

The  girl  was  gone  when  Cor- 
delia returned  home.  A  note  in 
her  young  scrawl  was  on  the  kitch- 
en table.  "Grandma,  I've  gone  bike 
riding  with  Fred." 

"The  nerve  of  him,"  Cordelia 
muttered.  "Susan  is  all  right  to 
take  bicycle  riding  in  the  afternoon, 
but  he  takes  another  girl  to  the 

Cordelia  was  glad  the  florist  came 
with  the  flowers  before  Susan  came 
home.  It  would  be  a  shame  to 
have  Susan  answer  the  door  think- 
ing the  flowers  might  be  from  some- 
one else. 

TT  was  almost  dusk.  Cordelia  laid 
out  the  pretty  new  velvet  across 
the  big  chair.  At  the  shoulder  she 
fastened  the  fragrant  heart  of  flow- 
ers. On  the  small  white  card  she 
wrote,  "Happy  Valentine  to  Su- 

Susan  didn't  go  into  the  parlor 
when  she  came  home.  She  ran 
straight  upstairs,  but  not  before 
Cordelia  saw  that  her  cheeks  were 
as  red  as  the  sweater  she  wore. 

Notes  of  a  popular  tune  drifted 
down  the  stairway  and  into  the 
kitchen  where  Cordelia  was  trim- 
ming some  Valentine  cookies  for 

"Seems  like  that's  the  song  Fred 
thinks  is  real  crazy,"  Cordelia  was 

When  Susan  came  down  in  her 
old  bathrobe  and  shaggy  slippers, 
Cordelia  knew  for  sure  there  was 


no  date  for  the  prom,  but  Susan 
looked  surprisingly  happy. 

When  she  finally  stepped  into 
the  parlor  she  saw  the  dress  and 
the  corsage.  She  flung  both  arms 
around  her  grandmother.  "What  a 
wonderful  Valentine  surprise!  I'll 
tell  you  whai  let's  do,  Grandma. 
You  get  all  dressed  up  and  so  will 
I,  then  we'll  sit  by  the  fireplace  and 
have  a  \^alentine  party  for  two." 

A  little  later  Cordelia  and  Susan 
were  settled  in  front  of  the  fire.  A 
waltz  was  being  played  on  the  radio, 
and  the  soft  aroma  of  the  corsage 
filled  the  room. 

Suddenly  Cordelia  arose  and 
walked  to  the  mirror.  She  peered 
at  the  gray  hair  and  the  aging  face. 
"Susan,  do  you  think  I'm  pretty?" 
She  turned  smiling. 

"Oh,  yes.  Grandma.  Fve  always 
thought  so.  You  are  beautiful  in 
that  dress.  Fve  never  seen  you 
wear  it  before,  yet  I'm  sure  it's  not 
new  .  .  .  because  of  the  style." 

"It  is  very  old  and  I  am  very 
old,"  Cordelia  sighed.  "When  we 
were  both  much  younger,  I  wore 
this  dress  on  a  Valentine's  night. 
Your  grandfather  said  I  was  pretty. 
We  were  married  before  the  next 
Valentine's  Day." 

For  the  next  few  hours,  grand- 
mother and  granddaughter  traveled 
back  through  the  years.  They 
looked  through  the  album,  and  they 
went  upstairs  to  the  room  where 
the  trunks  were  stored.  They 
looked  at  pictures  of  Cordelia  in 
other  days,  pictures  of  Grandpa 
and  Steve  and  Susan's  mother. 


They  found  an  old  Valentine 
with  two  angels  holding  a  pink  lace 
heart.  Inside  the  heart  it  said, 
"Accept  my  undying  love  and  de- 
votion.    To  Cordelia  from  Dan." 

Back  in  the  parlor,  Susan  sat  on 
the  arm  of  her  grandmother's  chair. 

"You  lived  in  such  a  nice  time 
when  you  were  young,"  she  said 

"Any  time  is  nice  when  you're 
young."  Cordelia  put  her  arm 
around  Susan. 

"But  Grandma,  boys  don't  say 
things  to  girls  now  like  Grandpa 
said  about  his  undying  love  and  de- 

As  if  to  emphasize  what  she  had 
said,  Susan  smiled  and  produced 
a  crumpled  piece  of  paper  from  her 

"This,  in  case  you're  wondering, 
is  my  Valentine  from  Fred.  It 

Dear  Susan,  I  hope  you  have  a  nice 
time  even  if  we  are  not  going  to  the 
prom  together.  I  think  you  are  real  sharp 
and  would  like  you  to  go  with  me  to  all 
the  rest  of  the  dances  this  year.  The 
reason  why  I  didn't  ask  you  to  go  to  the 
prom  is  that  Marie  asked  me  to  take  her, 
and  because  I  work  in  her  father's  garage 
could  I  very  well  say  no?  Please  ask 
Grandma  to  expect  me  for  Sunday  din- 
ner.   Yours  truly,  Fred. 

"I  see  what  you  mean,"  Cordelia 
smiled.  "It  is  different  from  Grand- 
pa's Valentine,  but  I  guess  it  means 
practically  the  same  thing.  You 
see,  I  just  remembered.  Grandpa 
told  me  that  night  that  he  would 
like  to  come  over  to  our  house  for 
Sunday  dinner." 

Sixty    Ljears  Kyigo 

Excerpts  From  the  Woman's  Exponent,  February  i,  and  February  15,  1894 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

UTAH  SILK  AT  THE  WORLD'S  FAIR:  The  ladies  of  Davis  County  con- 
tributed a  set  of  furniture  (seven  pieces)  to  the  ladies  reception  room  in  the  Utah 
Building,  upholstered  in  home-raised  silk,  it  was  a  sage  green  brocaded  with  a  spray 
of  wild  sage,  the  color  harmonizing  with  the  other  furnishings  in  the  room  ....  The 
raising  of  the  worm  is  a  labor  which  is  extremely  interesting,  and  to  the  womanly  heart 
brings  out  a  loving  care  and  interest  which  makes  it  more  than  mere  labor. 

— Margaret  A.  Caine 

SOUVENIRS  OF  LILAC  TIME:  I  have  the  courage  to  declare  myself  a  devoted 
admirer,  not  only  of  the  beautiful  and  fantastic,  but  the  weird  in  nature.  It  is  part 
of  my  composition  ....  Lilacs  are  one  of  my  especial  weaknesses,  for  they  are  as- 
sociated with  the  earliest  recollections  of  my  child-life  and  school-girl  history.  I  never 
see  a  lilac  but  it  calls  up  tender  memories  connected  with  the  past  ....  And,  if  I 
may  tell  it,  the  lilac  bush  oft  holds  many  a  precious  secret. 

— ^Aunt  Em 


Thou  call'st  from  out  the  deep  recesses  of  my  soul 

sweet  sympathy  .... 
And  all  the  while  I  feel  a  magic  touch 
That  brings  such  harmony  of  sight  and  sound 
And  charity  and  love  my  bosom  swell, 
With  such  intensity  no  tongue  can  tell 
And  thy  bright  presence  vivifies  the  spell; 
And  I  am  treading  on  enchanted  ground  .... 

— E.  B.  W. 

MUSIC  IN  UTAH:  In  the  growth  of  civihzation  and  the  unfoldment  of  social 
development,  music  and  her  twin  sister  poetry  take  precedence  of  all  the  arts,  and 
present  an  unmistakable  index  to  national  character.  The  pioneer  settlers  who  crossed 
the  Rocky  Mountains  to  make  homes  in  the  valley  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake  were  cer- 
tain in  the  early  stage  of  their  peculiar  civilization  to  manifest  the  genius  of  music, 
and  the  hosts  of  Israel  beguiled  many  an  hour  of  their  weary  march  across  the  conti- 
nent by  singing  the  songs  of  Zion.  The  first  musical  organization  formed  in  Utah 
was  a  brass  band  .  .  .  under  the  leadership  of  Captain  William  Pitt  ....  In  1857 
Dominico  Ballo,  an  Italian,  highly  endowed  with  the  musical  genius  of  his  race,  came 
to  Salt  Lake  City  and  electrified  the  people  with  his  performances  on  the  clarinet 
.  ...  In  1853  David  O.  Calder,  the  pioneer  teacher  of  vocal  music,  came  to  Salt  Lake 
City,  and  settled  over  Jordan  where  he  taught  the  first  singing  school  in  the  Terri- 
tory ....  In  1862  Professor  Charles  J.  Thomas,  who  had  for  years  been  associated 
with  some  of  the  principal  theatre  orchestras  in  London,  came  to  Salt  Lake  City,  and 
at  once  took  charge  of  the  orchestra  at  the  new  Salt  Lake  Theater  ....  — Selected 

BRIGHAM  YOUNG  AND  THE  DRAMA:  Brigham  Young,  the  leader  of  mod- 
ern Israel  in  its  exodus  to  these  mountains,  with  his  profound  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  typed  with  his  New  England  sagacity,  evinced  consummate  wisdom  in  sup- 
plying his  people  with  the  means  of  social  and  physical  revivification.  The  weariness 
of  travel,  and  the  labor  of  making  new  homes,  were  enlivened  by  joyous  music,  fa- 
miliar songs,  with  the  merry  dance  and  social  ball  ....  The  projects  of  organizing  a 
company  with  the  combination  of  the  musical  and  dramatic  elements,  received  the 
hearty  sanction  of  Brigham  Young.  — Selected 

Page  96 

Woman's  Sphere 

Ramona  W.  Cannon 

^^'pHE  Women  of  the  Year  1953/' 
as  nominated  by  Major  Gen- 
eral Wilham  F.  Dean  of  the  United 
States  Army,  are  the  heroic  army 
nurses  who  served  in  the  Korean 
War.  Among  those  who  received 
particular  mention  were:  Captain 
Iris  Craig,  Lieutenant  Dorothy  De- 
vers,  Lieutenant  Lorna  Wilson,  and 
nurse  Nancy  Jones. 

QUEEN  Elizabeth  II,  during  her 
^  tour  of  the  Commonwealth  na- 
tions in  December  1953,  was  royal- 
ly entertained  by  fifty-three-year-old 
Queen  Salote  Tupou  of  Tonga, 
who,  last  June,  attended  the  coro- 
nation of  Queen  Elizabeth  in  Lon- 
don. As  the  visiting  Queen  stepped 
ashore  at  Nukualofa,  it  began  to 
rain  once  more,  as  it  had  rained  at 
their  previous  meeting.  Both  queens 
smiled  broadly  as  Salote  opened  a 
large  green  umbrella  and  raised  it 
above  both  their  heads.  Salote's 
48,000  subjects  had  been  busy  for 
many  weeks  painting  the  royal  pal- 
ace, rehearsing  the  entertainment 
program,  making  arches  and  ban- 
ners, picking  pineapples,  preparing 
pigs  to  be  roasted,  and  drilling  the 
Royal  Tongan  MiHtary  Band. 

AT    the    thirty-second    National 

4-H  Congress,  held  in  Chicago 

in  November,  Margaret  Ann  Ash- 

ton  of  Provo,  nineteen  years  old, 
was  one  of  eight  to  win  $300  schol- 
arships from  Sears  Roebuck  Foun- 
dation. Her  national  prize  was  for 
home  improvement  —  making  a 
basement  storeroom  into  an  attrac- 
tive playroom.  Among  many  im- 
provements, she  upholstered  furni- 
ture, made  plywood  walls,  refinished 
a  piano,  made  bookcases,  tables,  a 
radio  case,  and  a  lamp  shade.  Wan- 
da Lee  Peacock  of  Price  received  a 
United  States  Savings  Bond  from 
the  Kellogg  Company,  Battle  Creek, 
Michigan,  as  a  health-improvement 

lyfRS.  Helen  Werner  Slocum  be- 
gan a  business  with  $2.50, 
which  now  grosses  $250,000  a  year. 
With  her  only  resources  a  second- 
hand trailer,  she  began  hauling 
boats  in  it  from  one  state  to  an- 
other, near  and  far.  Now  she  has 
many  employees  and  handles  a  fair 
share  of  the  nearly  5,000,000  small 
boats  in  this  country,  when  they 
require  dry-land  transportation. 

"I\7^E  extend  birthday  congratula- 
tions to  Mrs.  Clara  Fisher 
Samuels,  ninety,  formerly  of  Ver- 
nal, Uintah  County,  Utah,  now  a 
resident  of  San  Leandro,  California; 
and  Mrs.  Isabella  R.  Crafts  of  Salt 
Lake  City,  Utah,  ninety-three  years 

Page  97 


VOL.  41 


NO.  2 

oforgetting  Self 

High  on  the  rocky  battlements  of 
a  ridge  in  the  Black  Hills  of  South 
Dakota,  four  faces  have  been  carved 
in  lasting  stone  as  a  memorial 
to  four  great  Americans  whose 
strength,  discipline,  and  foresight 
directed  the  building  and  the  ex- 
tension of  American  constitutional 
government.  They  laid  the  struc- 
tural steel  of  freedom  and  built  the 
shining  towers  of  liberty.  Of  them 
it  may  be  said  that  ''more  than  self 
their  country  loved  .  .  .  and  mercy 
more  than  life." 

The  faces  carved  in  stone  on  that 
high  wall  are  the  faces  of  Washing- 
ton, Jefferson,  Lincoln,  and  Theo- 
dore Roosevelt.  The  lines  and  the 
lineaments  of  the  faces  reveal  in- 
tegrity and  vision,  courage  and  con- 
templation —  qualities  which  have 
made  the  thoughts  and  the  actions 
of  these  men  live  each  day  in 
America,  and  in  the  thoughts  and 
dreams  of  many  statesmen  through- 
out the  world. 

Let  it  be  said  of  Washington,  as 
we  think  of  him  in  this  month  of 
February,  that  he  evidenced  in  his 
own  life  that  high  integrity  of  pur- 
pose which  places  the  self  as  the 
servant  of  others,  as  a  builder  for  a 
more  lasting  monument  than  per- 
sonal pleasure  or  satisfaction.  He 
dearly  loved  his  home  —  the  broad 
acres  of  Mount  Vernon,  the  great 
river,  and  the  columns  of  his  house, 
the  association  of  his  family.  But 
he  endured  the  long  struggle,  the 
bitter   cold    of   embattled   winters, 

Page  98 

the  despair  of  many  failures  —  en- 
during that  which  he  believed  was 
temporary  in  the  hope  of  establish- 
ing that  which  would  be  of  lasting 
worth.  'Tet  us  raise  a  standard  to 
which  the  wise  and  honest  can  re- 
pair," Washington  said.  'The  event 
is  in  the  hand  of  God." 

And  what  of  Thomas  Jefferson, 
who  had  written  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  and  who  wielded  the 
tools  of  a  master  in  building  the 
structures  which  preceded  the  fram- 
ing of  the  Constitution?  Jefferson 
was  acting  as  minister  to  France 
during  the  drafting  and  the  signing 
of  that  document.  However,  the 
lasting  wisdom  and  breadth  of  his 
views,  and  the  uncompromising 
honesty  of  his  personality  made  a 
deep  imprint  upon  the  design  of 
government.  Although  he  wished 
to  grant  the  fullest  liberty  which 
they  might  be  capable  of  exercising 
to  all  people,  still  he  was  deter- 
mined to  safeguard  the  written  law 
and  to  uphold  the  legally  estab- 
lished codes.  "In  questions  of  pow- 
er," Jefferson  wrote,  "let  no  more 
be  said  of  confidence  in  man,  but 
bind  him  down  from  mischief  .  .  . 
by  the  Constitution." 

Well  known  and  well  loved,  the 
introspective  face  of  Lincoln  is 
sober  and  brooding,  yet  kindly  and 
even  magnificent  in  its  expression 
of  love  and  tenderness.  Through  an 
era  of  crisis  and  tragedy,  Lincoln 
moved  as  one  dedicated  to  a  great 
cause.     Forgetting   the  disappoint- 


ments  and  despair  of  his  own  life,  the  extension  of  American  influ- 
he  visioned  the  ideal  of  freedom  ence.  It  was  he  who  saw  a  greater 
extended  throughout  the  land.  For-  use  for  the  waterways,  reclamation 
getting  self,  by  the  very  splendor  of  of  arid  lands,  the  building  of  rail- 
his  leadership,  he  shaped  the  forces  roads,  and  the  wider  use  of  the  sea 
which  'a  thoroughfare  for  freedom  lanes  for  the  commerce  of  the 
beat  across  the  wilderness  .  .  .  ,"  world.  Although  he  championed 
It  has  been  said  by  modern  leaders  of  industrial  growth  in  the  nation  and 
great  integrity  that  the  face  and  the  development  of  the  resources  of  the 
life  of  Lincoln  have  been  guides  to  territories,  still  Theodore  Roosevelt 
them  in  times  of  fateful  decisions,  never  lost  sight  of  the  roof  of  lib- 
and  that  the  tenacity  of  his  faith  erty— the  Constitution,  and  he  was 
has  imparted  to  them  a  beacon  in  ever  alert  to  detect  and  deter  any  en- 
times  of  spiritual  darkness.  The  croachment  upon  the  firm  pillars  of 
great  man  sees  beyond  the  restric-  government.  He  was  one  who 
tions  of  his  own  needs  and  desires,  helped  to  make  possible  a  country 
He  sees  the  fundamental  concepts  ''beautiful  ...  for  amber  waves  of 
which  are  ageless  and  forever  im-  grain  ...  for  purple  mountain  ma- 
perative.  "Let  every  man  remem-  jesties  above  the  fruited  plain." 
ber,"  said  Lincoln,  ''that  to  violate  ^^e  faces  of  these  four  Ameri- 
the  law  IS  to  trample  on  the  blood  ^^^  statesmen  carved  upon  the 
of  his  father,  and  to  tear  the  char-  monument  in  the  hills  of  South 
ter  of  his  own  and  his  children's  j^^^^^^^  3,^  p^^t  of  our  heritage,  as 

5^  y*                   r    ^      r  are  their  thoughts  and  deeds  which 

Most   recent   or   the   four   great       . j    •,  .1    •    .i  ^  «.4.^-kivi ^^*- 

^,      ,         r  A        •  aided  so  greatly  in  the  establishment 

statesmen  upon  the  stage  of  Amen-  ,         ?    l-          r             jr         r 

can  life,  Theodore  Roosevelt  (1858-  ^^^   protection   of  our   edifice  of 

1919)  has  become  a  symbol  of  the  constitutional  government, 

vigorous  growth  of  the  country  and  —V.  P.  C. 

« ♦  ■ 

UJirtnaai/   greetings  to  oformer  LPresiaent 

KyLmii   Ujrown  JL^man 

Relief  Society  women  throughout  the  Church  are  happy  to  extend 
birthday  congratulations  to  our  beloved  former  president  Amy  Brown 
Lyman,  who  has  devotedly  served  the  organization  in  many  capacities,  and 
who  became  general  president  in  1940,  serving  as  president  until  April 
1945.  In  October  1953,  as  she  stood  with  our  present  leaders,  at  the 
ground-breaking  ceremony  for  the  new  Relief  Society  Building,  many 
sisters  remembered  with  gratitude  the  inspirational  service  which  Sister 
Lyman  has  so  willingly  and  so  graciously  given.  Her  activities  have  ex- 
emplified the  numerous  fields  to  which  a  charitable  and  highly  gifted 
woman  may  extend  her  interest  and  her  effort.  At  this  time  we  wish  her 
contentment  and  joy  and  many  more  years  with  her  family  and  friends 
and  the  thousands  of  Relief  Society  women  who  love  her  and  who  have 
served  under  her  leadership. 

Minor  White 



QJor  Such  J/is  cJhis 

Pansy e  H.  ToweYl 

One  life  is  not  enough,  for  I  could  spend 

Ten  thousand  years  beside  a  mountain  brook 

To  hear  its  quiet  murmuring  and  look 

Upon  its  pearl-fringed  ripples.  I  could  bend 

In  daily  reverence  where  aspens  send 

Their  whispered  prayers  to  heaven,  where  the  book 

Of  nature  lies  wide  open,  though  it  took 

A  thousand  lifetimes,  read  it  to  the  end; 

For  who  can  see  the  winter  sunlight  cast 

Its  purple  shadows  on  the  mountain  snow 

Nor  want  this  scene  again?     Or  feel  the  kiss 

Of  tender  rain  nor  wish  to  hold  it  fast? 

Life  is  too  urgent  in  the  time  we  know 

Eternity  must  be  for  such  as  this! 

Page  100 

The  Right  Touch 

Cecil  Pugmiie 

4  4  TUST  the  right  touch  on  the 
I  bodice,  Mother,  and  it  will 
^    be  perfect!"  cried  Sue. 

The  light  touch!  rebelliously 
thought  Sarah.  The  very  words  her 
sister-in-law  Alice  had  so  glibly  used 
yesterday,  when  she  had  knocked 
Sarah's  plans  for  the  trip  right  into 

Standing  with  arms  akimbo  on 
two  plump  hips,  Sarah's  usually 
snapping  brown  eyes,  now  red- 
rimmed  from  long  hours  of  sewing 
tiny  stitches,  carried  a  stubborn, 
hurt  expression  as  they  surveyed 
her  pretty  daughter.  Golden-haired 
Sue,  a  vision  of  loveliness,  whirled 
before  her  mother  in  the  creamy 
wedding  gown,  as  unmindful  of  her 
mother's  rebellious  thought  as  she 
was  of  the  cluttered  dining  room 
strewn  with  scraps  of  sewing  on  the 
table  and  every  available  chair. 

''Right  touch,  right  touch!"  sing- 
songed through  Sarah's  mind. 

''We're  bringing  Dad  to  your 
house  directly  from  the  hospital," 
Alice  had  unceremoniously  an- 
nounced yesterday  over  the  tele- 
phone. The  words  had  stunned 
Sarah  into  silence.  There  had  been 
a  long  pause,  and  then,  "You're  the 
only  one  with  a  spare  bedroom,  and 
besides,  you  have  the  right  touch." 

Just  like  that— the  right  touch 
and  a  spare  bedroom,  and  Sarah's 
long-planned  trip  dissolved  like 
cubes  of  warmed  ice. 

Any  other  time  Sarah  would 
gladly  have  accepted  the  responsi- 
bility of  caring  for  Father  Wood 

and  his  broken  leg.  But  now  of  all 
times!  It  meant  giving  up  the  trip 
to  Canada  to  see  Margo.  Little  sis- 
ter Margo!  Ten  years  ago  Sarah  had 
kissed  the  young  bride  goodbye, 
and  now  Margo's  husband  had  been 
coming  through  town  to  take  Sarah 
to  Canada.  This  had  seemed  a 
chance  of  a  lifetime. 

Now  everything  had  been 
changed  with  a  few  words  over  the 

Last  evening  when  Jim  had  ar- 
rived home  and  found  his  father 
ensconced  in  the  spare  bedroom, 
the  room  resembling  a  small  hos- 
pital, he  hadn't  said  a  word  about 
Sarah's  trip.  He  had  seemed  sort 
of  lost  and  puzzled. 

"Right  touch!  Spare  bedroom!" 
Why  Alice  could  have  given  up  her 
own  bedroom  for  her  father.  Sa- 
rah's mind  was  a  beehive  of  sting- 
ing thoughts. 

Just  because  I'm  a  Relief  Society 
president,  they  think  I'm  a  Rock  of 
Gibraltar.  Just  a  strong  old  robot, 
with  no  plans  or  feelings  of  my  own. 
Well,  I've  got  feelings  enough  that 
I  don't  want  to  hear  light  touch 
again.  Her  thoughts  clashed  on 
and  on,  as  she  critically  eyed  each 
fold  and  tuck  of  the  shimmering 
satin  gown.  There  was  something 
definitely  lacking  in  the  dress,  but, 
so  far,  that  sought-for  touch  had 
been  elusive. 

A  breath  of  summer  breeze  blew 
the  white  ruffled  kitchen  curtains 
inward,  wafting  its  coolness  through 
the  warm  bungalow,  carrying  along 

Page  101 


the  aroma  of  boiling  beans,  remind-  bye.     She  had  felt  hurt  and  disap- 

ing  Sarah   that  Jim  and   the  boys  pointed  when  mother  had  taken  the 

would  soon  be  home  for  supper.  dainty   scarf,   wrapped   it   in   tissue 

''We'll  have  to  clear  up  this  mess,  paper,    and    placed    it    in    the    old 

Sue.  It's  suppertime."  trunk,  with  the  words,  ''Until  you 

Reluctant  to  take  off  the  shin-  grow  up  to  be  a  lady." 

ing    gown      Sue    surveyed    herself  j             j  ^^^^^^^  ^^^^^^^^  ^  ^. 

thoughtfully  m  the  miprovised  mir-  g^^^j^  ^^^^^^^  ^^  j^^^^^j^   j  ^^^^^  ^-^1 

ror  propped  upon  two  dinmg-room  g^^  to  wear  the  scarf.    After  mama 

chairs.      She    turned    and    twisted,  ^-^^^  j  .^^^  ^^  ^^^  ^^  ^^ 

this  way  and  that.    A  definite  fling 

of  her  head  indicated  that  she  had  =;^  *   «   ♦ 

made  a  valuable  discovery.  MEXT  morning,  Sarah  had  Sister 

"Mother,  I  know!     I  know  just  Dixon  come  in  and  sit  with  Fa- 

what  it  needs!  I  saw  it  m  Mailon's  ther  Wood.  Ten  o'clock  found  her 

window  today.     I  guess  you  would  in  front  of  Mailon's  admiring  the 

call  it  a  stole— a  short  stole.  It  was  dainty  stole  draped  across  the  shoul- 

draped  over  the  bodice  of  a  wed-  ders   of  the  wedding  gown.     The 

ding  gown.    It  was  as  dainty  as  cob-  single  model  posed  against  an  elab- 

webs  and  was   caught   together  in  orate  background  of  tinselled  silver 

front  by  a  cluster  of  tiny  pearls."  trees  aburst  with  pink  apple  blos- 

Momentarily  caught  by  Sue's  en-  soms.     Sue  was  right!  It  was  won- 

thusiasm,  Sarah  brushed  aside  some  derful!  Her  mind's  eye  saw  it  draped 

patterns  and  sank  into  the  nearest  above  the  bodice  of  Sue's  gown.  It 

chair.  As  she  listened  to  Sue's  de-  was  the  perfect  answer  to  complete 

scription,  from  long  ago  came  the  the  wedding  gown.     After  finding 

memory  of  another  scarf  and  the  the    right   department,   a    saleslady 

hurting    remembrance   of    a    disap-  brought  the  scarf  from  the  window 

pointed  little  girl.  and     carefully     spread     it     before 

Sarah  on  the  glass  counter.  Close 

CHE  had  been  only  six!     Such  a  up,  it  was  more  beautiful  than  in 

^  tomboyish,  sunburned  and  freck-  the  window.  Shadowy  roses  on  the 

led  -  spattered  -  across-the-nose  little  trellis  of  clinging  leaves  were  woven 

^  girl,  whom  Uncle  Felix  had  sought  i^^to  a  mesh  of  dainty  filigree.     It 

out  as  she  sat  dangling  her  dirty  was  scalloped  with  tiny  rosebuds, 

foot  in  the  old  headgate,  trying  to  Sarah  felt  a  great  relief.    Making 

wash  away  the  prickly-pear  thistle  the  wedding  gown  had  been  more 

sticking  in  the  sole  of  her  left  foot,  of  a  strain  than  she  had  realized. 

He    had    brought    her    a    present!  and  this  would  complete  the  dress. 

Dear,     fascinating,     globe-trotting,  Mindful  that  her  roughened  fing- 

story-telling  Uncle  Felix.  And  such  ers  must  not  pull  a  single  thread 

a  present!     A  gossamer,  lacy  scarf,  in  the  delicate  fabric,  Sarah  stood 

a  fascinator,  even  prettier  than  the  spellbound  in  a  dream  all  her  own, 

one   she  had   watched   Miss   Lang  visualizing  golden-haired  Sue  in  the 

drape    over    her    shoulders    before  complete  ensemble.  Suddenly,  she 

telling  all  the  school  children  good-  was  jarred  from  her  muse  by  the 



words,  ''Siicli  a  Ixirgain,  too!  Only 

Sarah's  mind  clicked  back  to  the 
clarity  of  a  calculating  machine. 

"Whew/'  she  gulped.  "Why, 
that's  more  than  my  daughter's 
whole  outfit  cost!" 

She  thanked  the  saleslady  as 
gracefully  as  possible,  trying  not  to 
show  her  amazement  at  the  price 
of  the  scarf. 

Feeling  as  disappointed  as  a  child 
who  has  had  a  beautiful  toy 
snatched  away,  Sarah  stood  upon 
the  sun-beaten  pavement  to  collect 
her  thoughts.  Opening  her  purse, 
she  fingered  some  bills  for  Jim's  in- 
surance premium,  then  pursing  her 
lips  she  shoved  the  bills  down  deep 
into  the  corner  of  her  bag. 

Then  all  of  a  sudden  she  chuck- 
led. Of  course,  she  could  have 
made  the  scarf  herself.  Her  feet 
acquired  new  spring  as  she  squared 
her  shoulders  and  made  for  the 
nearest  department  store.  She  re- 
membered the  manv  times  she  had 
seen  bolts  of  beautiful  lace  dis- 
played in  the  yardage  departments. 

''Laces?  Yes,  Ma'am,  we  have 
that  \'ery  piece.  I  saw  the  scarf 
myself  in  Mailon's.  It  is  identical," 
assured  the  clear-skinned  girl  behind 
the  counter.  Reaching  beneath  the 
counter,  she  felt  for  the  bolt  of  lace, 
and  then  called,  ''Mrs.  Ames,  where 
is  the  roll  of  lace  No.  259?" 

"Sorry,  Miss  Hale.  I  sold  the  last 
bit  ten  minutes  ago." 

The  morning  wore  on,  noon 
came,  and  late  afternoon  found 
Sarah  still  hunting  the  lace.  Her 
quest  had  acquired  the  pattern  of 
a  tiresome  game. 

"Sorry,  just  out." 

CARAH  went  the  rounds  of  the 
stores  before  giving  up.  Fmally, 
with  tired  and  aching  feet,  and  feel- 
ing defeated  and  discouraged,  she 
returned  home. 

She  was  surprised  to  find  Sister 
Dixon  m  the  kitchen.  Sarah  had 
not  expected  to  find  her  dinner  all 
cooked,  waiting  to  be  served.  Grate- 
ful for  this  unexpected  respite,  Sar- 
ah went  to  Father  Wood.  In  spite 
of  Sister  Dixon's  efforts  to  catch 
each  little  breeze  by  opening  both 
windows,  the  room  was  warm  and 
uncomfortable.  Father  Wood 
looked  tired  and  wear\,  but  Sarah 
had  never  heard  him  complain  of 
anything  or  anybody.  He  managed 
a  cheerful  greeting.  For  the  first 
time  Sarah  began  to  realize  that 
maybe  it  was  painful  for  him  to  be 
confined  and  dependent  upon  her. 
She  felt  so  tired  and  defeated,  her- 
self, after  tramping  hot  pavements 
all  day  that  her  feelings  aligned 
themselves  with  the  man  lying  help- 
less and  dependent  in  the  hot  bed- 

Life  has  a  strange  way  of  taking" 
hold  of  us  and  managing  us,  she 
thought.  Certainly,  Father  Wood 
would  not  be  lying  here  dependent 
upon  her  if  he  could  manage  other- 
wise. He  certainly  did  not  ask  for 
a  broken  leg.  She  remembered  the 
time  he  had  stood  up  for  her 
against  Jim  in  trivial  things,  making 
her  feel  she  was  something  rather 
special  and  not  just  an  accepted 
daughter-in-law.  She  remembered 
the  times  he  had  turned  to  her  in- 
stead of  Alice,  his  own  daughter. 
It  had  long  been  sort  of  a  familv 
joke  that  Alice  was  the  family  but- 
terfly, gay,  pretty,  and  carefree,  but 



irresponsible  and  not  one  to  turn 
to  in  time  of  trouble.  Jim's  broth- 
ers and  father  usually  turned  to- 
ward Sarah  in  moments  of  need, 
since  Jim's  mother  had  died  three 
years  ago. 

Sarah  fluffed  his  pillow  and  threw 
wide  the  door  so  that  he  could  see 
what  was  going  on  in  the  kitchen. 
She  brought  a  bookstand  and  placed 
a  favorite  magazine  within  easy 
reach  and  then  went  to  prepare  a 
tray  for  him. 

Sarah  felt  a  deep  satisfaction  in 
seeing  Father  Wood  eat  with  relish. 
Sister  Dixon  seemed  in  no  hurry 
to  go  home,  and  it  was  rather  nice 
having  her  bustle  about  the  kitchen. 
For  the  first  time,  during  the  hur- 
ried day,  Sarah  felt  a  sense  of  re- 
laxation. She  pulled  a  chair  up  by 
the  bedside  and  began  to  laugh 
with  Father  Wood  about  chasing 
an  elusive  bit  of  lace  all  over  town. 

''Sarah,  I  didn't  know  about  the 
trip,  or  I  would  have  stayed  on  at 
the  hospital,"  apologized  Father 

Supper  over,  Jim  went  to  sit  with 
his  father.  Sue  had  not  returned 
from  school,  and  the  problem  of 
the  unfinished  wedding  dress  began 
to  rankle  in  Sarah's  mind.  She 
knew  Sue  would  be  disappointed 
about  the  scarf.  Strange!  Disap- 
pointment in  two  lives  over  a  small 
thing  like  a  whiff  of  lace,  such  a 
tiny  thing,  yet  so  important  at  the 
moment,  mused  Sarah. 

She  climbed  the  stairs  to  the  at- 
tic. While  she  was  remembering 
she  would  take  a  look  at  the  scarf 
which  had  waited  so  long  for  her 
to  become  a  lady.  I  guess  I  sort  of 
disappointed  it,  thought  Sarah. 

npHE  old  trunk  stood  as  sturdy  in 
its  four-square-cornered  way  as  it 
had  when  her  mother  used  it  as  a 
chest  for  her  most  cherished  pos- 
sessions. Sarah  blew  the  dust  from 
its  top  as  she  pulled  down  the  fast- 
eners. She  raised  the  heavy  lid,  lift- 
ed the  top  till  from  its  place,  and 
put  it  on  the  floor.  Searching  in 
the  bottom  recess,  she  found  the 
small  package  wrapped  in  yellowed 
tissue  paper.  As  she  untied  its  en- 
circling string,  a  silken  web  slipped 
from  the  wrapper  and  cascaded  over 
her  brown  arm.  Sarah  gasped.  She 
had  forgotten  how  lovely  it  was. 
Creamy  white  lace!  Real  lace!  No 
imitation,  this.  It  was  the  most 
beautiful  piece  of  lace  she  had  ever 
seen.  A  tiny  label  stitched  in  one 
corner  said,  ''Made  in  Venice." 
Dainty  orange  blossoms  were  intri- 
cately woven  on  a  gossamer  network 
as  sheer  as  butterfly  wings.  It 
seemed  fashioned  for  a  queen. 

Sarah  draped  the  web  of  trans- 
parent beauty  over  her  brown  arm, 
but  quickly  removed  it.  It  seemed 
out  of  place,  just  as  much  today  as 
it  would  have  been  out  of  place 
years  ago  on  the  freckled-faced  lit- 
tle girl.  Mindful  lest  one  cobwebby 
thread  be  pulled  by  her  needle- 
pricked  fingers,  Sarah  held  the  scarf 
away  and  in  front  of  her,  be- 
witched by  its  sheer  loveliness. 

A  squeak  of  the  rusty  hinge  on 
the  attic  door  jarred  her  back  to 

"Mother!  Oh,  Mother!  Where 
did  you  get  it?  Why,  it's  far  lovelier 
than  the  one  at  Mailon's.  It  will 
just  make  the  dress  perfect.  It's  just 
the  right  touch." 

"Right  touch!"  Sarah  smiled  as 
she   turned   to   the  blue-eyed   girl, 


sparkling  with  admiration  and  hap-  'Tve   wanted   to   do   this   for  a 

piness.  long  time,  Sarah.    Just  haven't  got- 

Carefully  gathering  together  the  ten  around  to  it  at  the  right  mo- 
silken  ends  of  the  scarf,  she  placed  ment,"  said  Father  Wood.  '1  want 
the  bit  of  beauty  into  the  young  it  worn  by  a  great  little  lady." 
girl's  outstretched  hand.  Even  in   the  dark,   Sarah  knew 

'Take  it,  child.  It's  a  bridal  gift,  that  the  hard,  irregular  object  was 
reserved  by  your  grandmother,  from  Mother  Wood's  emerald  engage- 
Uncle  Felix."  ment  ring. 

Jim  emerged  from  a  chair  in  the 

Sarah  tiptoed  into  Father  Wood's  shadows  of  the  room  and  Sarah  felt 
room  to  see  that  he  was  comfort-  his  arms  go  around  her. 
able  for  the  night.  He  appeared  to  'Taking  this  from  any  other  man 
be  sleeping.  Quietly,  she  pulled  the  in  the  world  and  I'd  have  grounds 
shade  and  tiptoed  back  again  past  for  divorce,"  laughed  Jim.  'Imag- 
the  bed.  A  strong  hand  reached  ine,  a  woman  wearing  an  engage- 
out  and  she  felt  something  pressed  ment  ring  on  each  hand.  Sure  must 
into  her  hand.  have  the  right  touch." 

■  ♦  ■ 

Valentine  for  iriosemarii 

Ethel  Jacohson 

Rosemary,  Rosemary,  Rosemary,  named  for 

Who's  so  delectable?  The  fairest  of  roses. 

If  you've  one  faihng  How  well  you  know  that 

It's  quite  undetectable.  It's  man  who  proposes! 

Listing  your  charms  With  suitable  suitors 

Is  a  job  insurmountable.  Pursuing  you  frantically, 

You  have  so  many  Make  me  the  one  that 

They're  simply  uncountable!  You  smile  on  romantically! 

cyorever  the   'Jjream 

Mary  Gustafson 

Have  you  ever  sat  by  a  fireplace 
And  dreamed  as  the  dancing  flame 
Held  visions  of  faces  forgotten 
Till  you  almost  called  a  name? 

If  you  have  you  can  answer  clearly 

That  you  have  seen,  as  I, 

And  have  known  that  the  flame  that  quickens 

Will  swiftly  ash  and  die. 

But  the  dream  drifts  on  forever. 
Eddying  on  through  space 
Until  it  can  find  a  welcome 
In  the  smile  of  an  upturned  face. 



aioovies  uieip  to  Jxeeo  crier    c/< 



Lillie  Walker,  Wellsville,  Utah,  Has  Made  Two  Hundred  Sixty  Quilts  and 

Many  Beautiful  Hooked  Rugs 

Lillie  Walker,  seventy-five  years  old,  has  been  a  widow  for  twenty-two  years,  but 
she  has  made  her  own  living  by  doing  home  nursing  and  making  and  selling  her  beau- 
tiful hooked  rugs  and  other  items  of  handwork.  Without  assistance,  she  has  made  and 
quilted  two  hundred  sixty  quilts,  and  has  designed  and  completed  many  hooked  rugs 
which  have  given  her  a  reputation  for  her  original  patterns  and  beautiful  blending  of 
colors,  as  well  as  expert  workmanship. 

Mrs.  Walker  loves  to  work  in  the  temples  and  has  performed  ordinance  work  in 
the  Logan,  Salt  Lake,  Manti,  St.  George,  Idaho  Falls,  and  Cardston  temples.  She 
has  been  a  Relief  Society  visiting  teacher  for  thirty-five  years.  She  seldom  misses  at- 
tendance at  Relief  Society  and  Sunday  School  and  often  walks  a  mile  to  attend  these 
meetings.  Of  her  twelve  children,  nine  are  still  living,  and  she  has  forty  grandchildren 
and  thirty-seven  great-grandchildren.     Her  life  is  busy,  useful,  and  happy. 


Lucy  WooIJey  Brown 

Only  the  shadows  made  by  trees 
Are  patches  of  frost  this  dawn. 
The  sun  kissed  other  white  dust  away; 
And  left  diamonds  on  the  lawn. 

Page  106 

c/o    vi/ashington 

Lucille  Waters  Mattson 

"It  WASHINGTON  walked  among  his  men  at  Valley  Forge  during  the  "hard  winter," 
■  ■  from  which  time  was  reckoned  for  seventy-five  years  in  the  backwoods,  and 
instilled  in  them  courage  and  endurance  to  drill  and  starve  and  die  for  freedom.  It 
was  miraculous  that  they  did  not  capitulate — those  men  whose  ancestors  had  come  up 
from  the  dark  ages  knowing  little  but  oppression,  lack  of  opportunity,  and  autocratic  rule. 
But  the  spark  of  freedom  was  firmly  imbedded,  and  the  blood  of  Ephraim  was  among 
them;  they  were  fighting  upon  a  promised  land  for  a  righteous  cause.  Though  none 
could  fully  understand  the  purposes  as  yet,  the  passion  for  freedom  which  burned 
in  Washington's  breast,  was  fanned  to  flame  by  his  strength,  his  courage,  the  de- 
termination of  this  inspired  leader. 

We,  as  Latter-day  Saints,  accord  to  him  all  the  greatness,  all  the  personal  at- 
tributes of  character,  all  the  genius  of  leadership  given  by  the  world,  and,  in  addition, 
we  acclaim  him  as  inspired  of  God,  fulfilling  his  holy  purposes,  chosen  to  free  a 
favored  land  for  a  Prophet  to  bring  upon  the  earth  again  the  true  and  everlasting 


Christie  Lund  Coles 

How  much  the  modern  child  has  lost, 
Not  coming  home  to  the  good,  warm  crust 

Of  homemade  bread  with  butter,  sweet. 
Spread  thickly  for  a  special  treat  .... 

Windows  were  steamed,  the  house  oven-warm. 
When,  pink-cheeked,  we  entered  from  the  storm. 

And  found  the  fragrance,  unequaled  still. 
Of  brown-baked  loaves.  Words  cannot  tell 

How  the  world  became  suddenly  sunny 
With  a  slice  of  bread  golden  with  honey. 

oCate   (Buzzard 

MaryhaJe  Woolsey 

Wind-driven  in  ghostly  hordes,  down  city  streets 
And  up  small  country  lanes,  the  snowflakes  play 
At  hectic  games — well  knowing  how  brief  their  time; 
Knowing  how  close  behind,  spring  comes  this  way. 

Page  107 

QJrom   L^edar  L^hest  to   LDressing   cJable 

Chia  Laster 

TN  small  houses  and  apartments,  space  economy  is  the  vital  keynote  today.  Many 
•*•  families  have  growing  pains,  and  the  problem  of  where  to  put  winter  clothes  in 
summer  and  summer  clothes  in  winter,  and  still  have  a  well-balanced  bedroom,  has 
been  something  we  have  all  faced  at  some  time  or  other. 

Suppose  you  have  an  older  cedar  chest  that  you  cannot  do  without,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  do  not  have  space  for  that  much-desired  dressing  table.  If  this  happens 
to  be  the  problem  in  your  home,  here  is  a  simple  solution.  Make  the  chest  into  an 
attractive  dressing  table!  It  can  be  done  at  very  Httle  expense  and  without  any  ex- 
perience at  all. 


Materials  Needed 

The  material  you  choose  for  your  dressing  table  skirt  will  depend,  of  course,  upon 
the  material  of  your  drapes  and  spread  and  the  other  furniture  and  colors  in  the  room. 
But  let  us  suppose  that  the  fabric  is  rayon  taffeta.  This  makes  a  lovely  dressing  table 
skirt.  You  will  need  about  2  Yi  yards,  54  inches  wide.  Also,  you  will  need  one  roll 
of  cotton  batting,  the  width  of  the  chest  top.  Be  sure  to  buy  two  boxes  of  upholstering 
tacks,  one  box  of  carpet  tacks,  and  have  handy  a  hammer  and  scissors. 

Have  a  piece  of  clear  glass  cut  to  fit  the  top  of  dressing  table,  which  is  the  top 
of  the  cedar  chest.  Now,  for  the  cedar  chest  base,  buy  these  materials  and  have  them 
cut  in  this  manner:  plywood,  /4"  thick,  cut  the  same  size  as  the  bottom  of  your 
cedar  chest.  Have  legs  cut  to  height  desired,  using  4"  by  4".  For  leg  supports,  have 
two  pieces  of  1"  by  4"  boards  cut  the  same  length  as  the  baseboard.  Have  two  pieces 
1"  by  4"  cut  the  same  width  as  the  baseboard.    See  illustrations  A-B-C-D. 

Page  108 




General  Directions 

The  cedar  chest  sits  upon  this  box-Hke  base,  in  order  to  be  high  enough  for  a  dress- 
ing table,  so  your  first  step  is  to  make  the  base.  Take  your  Yz"  plywood  baseboard 
(No.  A)  and  your  two  i"  by  4"  end  boards  (No.  C).  Nail  together  as  shown  in 
illustration.  Next,  nail  on  the  two  1"  by  4"  lengthwise  boards  (No.  B)  in  illustra- 
tion. Now,  the  legs  are  placed  in  each  corner  and  nailed  securely.  When  this  is 
completed,  set  the  cedar  chest  upon  the  dressing  table  base. 

Take  the  cotton  batting  and  cover  the  cedar  chest  top  to  a  one-inch  thickness.  The 
cotton  is  kept  in  place  with  the  carpet  tacks  which  are  placed  here  and  there.  Cut 
material  long  enough  and  wide  enough  to  fit  top  of  cedar  chest  and  stretch  over  sides 
of  hd  on  three  sides  and  back  of  lid  on  the  fourth  side. 

Next,  pad  six  inches  of  the  front  and  sides  with  cotton  and  tack  in  place.  Now, 
cover  with  a  seven-inch  strip  of  the  taffeta  material.  Use  the  upholstering  tacks  and 
make  a  design,  as  shown  in  the  picture.  If  you  like,  a  different  design  can  be  used. 
But  leave  the  bottom  row  undone  until  you  have  gathered  your  dressing  table  skirt 
and  tucked  under  the  edge  of  strip.  The  raw  edge  of  the  strip  is  folded  under  and 
placed  over  gathered  skirt.  Then  the  last  row  of  upholstering  tacks  is  hammered  in 

When  this  is  completed,  place  clear  glass  over  padded  top.  It  is  now  completed 
and  you  can  place  mirror  and  lamps  or  whatever  you  desire  on  top.  But  the  main 
idea  is  your  storage  space  underneath  the  dressing  table  top. 

QOays  {bad 

Gertrude  T.  Kovan 

I  look  toward  the  setting  sun 
And  view  the  night  almost  begun — 
The  shadows  gathering  in  the  dusk, 
A  solemn  quiet  and  the  hush 
Of  birds  in  treetops,  hovering  there 
Within  their  nests;  the  evening  air 
Filled  with  all  memories  of  the  day. 
While  you,  my  love,  are  far  away. 

cJhe  CJinest  (career  of  ^/LU 

Pauline  M.  Henderson 

^  ^  /'^^^  ^'^  i^st  ^  housewife."  seems  to  me  that  homemaking  Hves 

If  I  was  hstening  to  a  radio  up  to  this  definition  very  well. 

program    the   other   day,  A    successful    wife    and    mother 

and  heard  a  woman  make  this  reply  combines  many  skills  and  talents  in 

to  a  question  concerning  her  occu-  the  fulfillment  of  her  role  in  life, 

pation.     The   words   were  accom-  any  one  of  which,  if  followed  ex- 

panied  by  an  apologetic  little  laugh,  clusively,  would  command  a  good 

as  though  the  speaker  were  a  bit  salary  and  a  fair  amount  of  respect 

ashamed  of  her  calling.  in  the  world  of  business. 

I  thought,  suddenly,  how  often  She   is   a   nutritionist,   having   a 

I    had    heard    those    same    words!  working  knowledge  of  all  the  vari- 

Why!   I  had  said  the  same  thing  ous  food  elements  necessary  to  the 

myself,   many   times— and   in   that  health  of  her  family,  and  she  knows 

same  self-deprecatory  tone!  how  to  skillfully  combine  them  to 

Perhaps  I  was  in  an  unusually  in-  make  appetizing  meals,  three  times 
trospective  mood  that  morning,  but  a  day,  every  day  in  the  year, 
the  incident  started  me  thinking.  Starting  with  four  walls,  some 
Why,  I  wondered,  should  we— the  furniture,  and  other  inanimate  ob- 
homemakers  of  the  world— be  jects,  she  becomes  an  interior  dec- 
ashamed  of  this  most  rewarding  of  orator,  as  she  creates  a  home  that 
all  positions  in  life?  is  a  haven  of  peace  and  rest  for 

I    have    heard    complaints    from  those  she  loves, 

many  women,  that  simply  being  a  Should  one  of  her  family  become 

housewife  does  not  provide  a  wom-  ill,  she  is  a  nurse— so  far  as  possible 

an  with  sufficient  opportunity  for  making  up  in  loving  care  what  she 

self-expression,   or  a   large   enough  may  lack  in  professional  skill, 

scope  in  which  to  develop  her  tal-  As   she   manipulates   the   family 

ents  to  the  fullest  extent.  Indeed,  finances,  she  becomes  an  economist 

I  have,  on  occasion,  added  my  voice  of  no  mean  ability,  stretching  the 

to  this  lament.    We  are  prone  to  budget    to    cover   all    her   family's 

look  upon  our  work  as  drudgery,  present  needs,  as  well  as  providing 

and  to  dwell  enviously  upon   the  a  reserve  for  the  future, 

lives  of  our  sisters  who  have  made  The  mother  of  a  family  is  also 

careers  for  themselves  in  the  busi-  a  teacher,  as  she  helps  her  children 

ness  and  professional  world.     But,  through  their  school  years,  adding 

after  giving  the  matter  some  seri-  much  to  their  education  that  they 

ous  thought,   I,  for  one,  have  re-  cannot  learn  from  formal  instruc- 

vised  my  opinion.  tion. 

The   dictionary   defines   "career''  And,  in  addition  to  all  of  this, 

as  '*a  profession  or  other  calling  de-  the  homemaker  performs  what  is 

manding    special    preparation    and  her  most  important  function— that 

undertaken   as   a   life's   work."     It  of  spiritual  counselor.    To  her,  God 

Page  110 


has  intrusted  the  molding  of  the 
characters  of  her  children.  To  dis- 
charge this  trust  is  her  duty  and  also 
her  privilege. 

What  triumphs  in  the  business  or 
professional    world— however    great 


they  may  be— can  compare  in  im- 
portance and  lasting  satisfaction  to 
the  shaping  of  human  lives? 

So,  let  us  wear  our  aprons  proud- 
ly as  a  banner— a  symbol  of  a  truly 
exalted  profession! 

JLost    ffiittens? 

Elizabeth  Williamson 

The  children  will  never  misplace  their  mittens  or  gloves  if  they  have  their  names 
firmly  attached.  The  most  decorative  method  is  embroidering  their  names  on  gloves 
and  mittens. 

If  the  names  are  lengthy,  use  initials.  Embroider  with  wool  to  match  the  mittens 
or  use  a  bright  contrasting  color  to  attract  attention. 

The  Deeper  Melody 

Chapter  5 
Alice  Money  Bailey 

Synopsis:  Steven  Thorpe,  a  widower 
with  three  small  children,  becomes  inter- 
ested in  Margaret  Grain,  a  registered 
nurse,  who  has  taken  care  of  his  baby 
during  an  attack  of  pneumonia.  Mar- 
garet's mother,  a  widow,  who  has  been 
acting  as  Steven's  housekeeper  temporari- 
ly, decides  to  continue  in  this  position 
until  Margaret's  marriage  to  Dr.  Rex 
Harmon.  In  the  meantime,  Margaret  has 
accepted  the  position  of  night  superin- 
tendent in  the  hospital,  and  Steven  finds 
it  impossible  to  see  her.  He  has  been 
made  vice-president  of  the  Pikes  Peak 
Machinery  Company,  when  his  secretary, 
Miss  Tate,  invites  him  to  the  symphony. 

4  4  /^  H,  thank  you/'  Miss  Tate 
I  I  murmured  and  hurried 
^^  into  an  explanation  of 
how  she  had  come  to  have  the  tick- 
ets, quite  by  accident,  she  assured 
him  fervently. 

Steve  was  sorry  he  had  been  led 
into  it,  later,  when  it  came  to  the 
actual  going,  but  only  a  cad  would 
wriggle  out  of  it,  and  Steve  did  not 
look  upon  himself  as  a  cad.  Miss 
Tate  looked  smart  and  was  taste- 
fully dressed,  when  he  picked  her 
up.  She  talked  quite  intelligently. 
She  asked  about  the  children, 
especially  Phyllis.  She  knew  a  sur- 
prising amount  of  the  details  of 
his  life.  She  must  have  been  the 
one  to  type  J.  T.'s  notes,  Steve 
thought.  She  encouraged  him  to 
talk  about  himself  and  the  children, 
saying  she  adored  babies,  and  that 
sometime  she  would  like  to  bring 
some  gifts  for  his  children. 

He  felt  on  edge  with  her,  stiff 
and  cool,  but  tried  not  to  show  it. 
After  all,  this  was  a  situation  large- 
Page  112 

ly  of  his  own  making.  He  had 
had  no  business  considering  her  on 
familiar  terms,  even  in  his  own 
mind.  Thoughts  were  uncanny; 
they  had  a  way  of  becoming  reali- 
ties. In  this  case,  they  had  certain- 
ly been  the  edge  of  balance  be- 
tween saying  no  to  Miss  Tate  and 
accepting  her  invitation. 

The  music  was  superb;  it  quick- 
ened a  deadness  in  him,  its  flowing 
streams  pouring  into  his  emptiness. 
His  life  had  been  too  busy  and 
too  complicated  of  late  to  include 
such  things  as  a  symphony.  Even 
so,  he  did  not  remember  its  having 
had  such  an  effect  on  him  in  the 
old  days,  an  effect  beyond  enjoy- 
ment. Now,  it  seemed  a  new 
language,  plumbing  the  depths  of 
his  emotions,  the  color,  movement, 
and  sound  exploring  his  emotions 
—the  sadness,  the  loneliness,  and 
the  pathos,  ravelling  out  tired  mys- 
teries and  answering  old  questions. 
It  voiced  his  triumph  and  spoke 
his  resolve.  It  was  as  if  Margaret 
sat  beside  him— that  all  he  had  to 
do  was  to  reach  and  touch  her  hand, 
as  if  the  music  were  a  language  be- 
tween them,  a  bond,  a  sesame,  a 
key.  It  was  in  this  hour  that  his 
love  for  her  became  full  and  real 
and  undeniable. 

''Do  you  know  I'm  here?"  Miss 
Tate  was  asking,  and  her  voice 
jarred  him  violently. 

He  came  reluctantly  back  to  re- 
ality—the reality  of  her,  instead  of 
Margaret,  here  beside  him,  the 
knowledge    that    Margaret    would 



never  share  such  an  experience  with 
him.  There  was  a  bitter  taste  in  his 
mouth  as  they  moved  down  the 

lyi ISS  Tate  was  chattering  along— 
the  maestro's  timing  had  been 
a  little  ragged.  Didn't  he  think  the 
flute  wasn't  quite  up  to  standard? 
Her  voice  sounded  like  tinkling 
brass  beside  the  deeper  melody  of 
his  love  for  Margaret.  It  stopped 
only  when  one  of  her  friends, 
whom  Steve  recognized  dimly  and 
with  dismay  as  one  of  the  office 
force,  rushed  up  to  them. 

"Oh,  Miss  Tate!  Fm  so  glad 
you  made  it.  Were  the  seats  all 
right?  I  couldn't  get  the  ones  you 
asked  for,  but  I  thought   .   .   .   ." 

Steve  looked  sharply  at  Miss 
Tate  and  caught  her  frantically 
signalling  the  girl  to  silence,  her 
face  a  study  in  violence.  He  was 
so  shocked  by  her  expression  that 
he  didn't  remember  for  hours  that 
she  had  said  the  tickets  came  to 
her  by  accident.  At  first  it  angered 
him,  then  amused  him. 

He  told  Mrs.  Grain  about  it. 

''Sounds  like  a  trap  to  me,"  was 
her  summation. 

''So  long  as  it  caught  the  right 
victim,"  Steve  laughed. 

"It  won't  be  the  last  trap,"  pre- 
dicted Mrs.  Grain.  "A  handsome 
young  man  like  you  is  a  natural 
prey  for  lonesome  girls.  If  you 
don't  choose  one  yourself,  one  will 
choose  you." 

"I'll    choose    my    own    wife, 
thank  you,"  said  Steve  shortly. 

A  few  nights  later,  when  Steve 
had  kissed  the  children  good  night, 
put  on  his  slippers,  and  was  settled 
with  his  paper,  the  doorbell  rang, 
and  there  stood  Miss  Tate,  her  eyes 

sparkling,  her  arms  laden  with 

"I  just  brought  some  little  things 
for  the  children— the  gifts  I  men- 
tioned—you didn't  say  I  couldn't— 
it  is  such  fun— and  I  do  hope  they 
aren't  asleep!"  she  managed  all  in 
one  breath. 

Steve's  first  reaction  was  of  an- 
noyance and  distaste  at  having  the 
children  excited  at  their  bedtime- 
having  his  secretary  bringing  gifts 
for  them,  but  she  was  so  excited 
there  was  nothing  else  to  do  but 
have  Mrs.  Grain  bring  them  in. 

The  children  clung  to  their  fa- 
ther and  eyed  Miss  Tate  with 
round,  unfriendly  eyes  until  she 
lured  them  with  her  gifts,  letting 
each  one  undo  his  own  parcel. 
There  were  dresses  of  pink  and  blue 
crisp  silk  for  the  girls,  a  doll  for 
each,  with  matching  dresses.  Davey 
had  a  toy  train  and  some  new  cow- 
boy boots.  The  latter  he  eyed 
solemnly,  clutching  the  train. 

"Other  Mama  doesn't  want  me 
to  wear  those,"  he  pronounced,  but 
fell  to  his  knees  and  became  a  toot- 
ing, chugging  train  immediately. 

CTEVE  didn't  explain  when  Miss 
Tate  was  momentarily  set  back. 
The  children  were  so  ecstatic  over 
the  gifts  that  they  quite  forgot  their 
diffidence  of  the  strange  lady  and 
gathered  around  her,  all  chattering 
at  once  in  their  treble  voices.  She 
was  on  the  floor  with  them,  alter- 
nately showing  Davey  how  to  wind 
his  train  and  pulling  the  little 
dresses  of  the  girls  into  place.  Steve 
had  to  admit  she  was  charming, 
even  pretty,  with  her  hair  shaken 
loose  and  the  flush  on  her  face.  He 
was  always  misjudging  the  girl. 
"Pretty   dress,"    said    Ilene,   her 



blue  eyes  shining,  and  Phyllis 
echoed,  "Oh,  pitty/' 

Steve's  heart  smote  him,  seeing 
their  pleasure  in  the  pretty  dresses. 
He  had  seen  to  it  that  they  had 
the  necessary  clothes  for  comfort, 
but  it  had  been  a  long  time,  in  fact 
never,  that  he  had  bought  things 
for  beauty  for  the  little  ones. 

'Tm  afraid  you've  opened  my 
eyes  to  a  new  duty.  Miss  Tate.  I 
had  no  idea  they  were  old  enough 
to  know  a  pretty  dress  from  a  mere- 
ly useful  one." 

''How  could  you  know,  Steve,  be- 
ing a  man?  Only  a  woman  knows 
how  a  little  girl  feels,  Fm  afraid." 

CTEVE  felt  a  little  shock  at  her 

use  of  his  name,  but  quickly  cov- 
ered it.  After  all,  Steve  was  his 
name,  and  there  was  no  use  being 
a  stuffed  shirt  about  it,  especially 
after  the  girl  had  so  unselfishly 
brought  gifts  to  his  children.  Her 
words  made  him  feel  suddenly  in- 
adequate to  bring  up  his  little  girls 
by  himself.  Goodness  knows  what 
mysterious  benefits  he  would  rob 
them  of  in  the  ignorance  of  his 
male  point  of  view. 

*1  must  go  now,"  she  said  at  last. 
''Would  you  call  a  cab,  Steve?" 

Of  course  Steve  couldn't  let  her 
go  home  in  a  cab  after  such  an 
errand,  and,  somehow,  he  had  made 
a  promise  to  accompany  her  to  the 
theatre  when  he  returned  home 
that  night. 

Mrs.  Grain  mentioned  Miss  Tate 
at  breakfast  next  morning. 

"Yes,  it  was  very  thoughtful  of 
her  to  bring  gifts,"  said  Steve, 
spooning  cereal  into  Phyllis'  mouth. 

"Very  nice,"  agreed  Mrs.  Grain 
without  conviction. 

Steve  wiped  Phyllis'  chin  with  a 

napkin.  "You  don't  sound  sin- 
cere," he  observed. 

"Men/"  Mrs.  Grain  exploded 
cryptically.  "They  don't  see 
through  a  thing!"  She  would  say 
no  more,  except  that  she  ought  not 
to  have  said  as  much,  it  was  none 
of  her  business,  and  that  the  gifts 
had  surely  delighted  the  children. 

"How's  Margaret?"  Steve  asked, 
partly  to  change  the  subject,  but 
mostly  because  he  hadn't  seen  any 
evidence  of  her  having  been  here 
for  days,  and  longing  for  word  from 
her.    He  tried  to  sound  casual. 

"Fine!"  said  Mrs.  Grain  heartily. 

"You  still  don't,"  said  Steve. 

"Don't  what?"  Mrs.  Grain  count- 

"Sound  sincere.  Is  something 

"I've  had  six  children  marry," 
Mrs.  Grain  said.  "I  never  made  the 
choice  for  one  of  them,  but  some- 
times it  is  hard  to  sit  back  and 
watch  them  make  mistakes." 

"Look  here!  Is  Margaret  making 
a  mistake?  Doesn't  she  love  this 
fellow?"  demanded  Steve  eagerly, 
too  eagerly,  he  perceived. 

"She  loves  him,  all  right,  or  she 
would  see  him  differently.  Nurses 
are  trained  to  worship  doctors— to 
jump  up  when  one  comes  near, 
wait  till  one  goes  through  a  door 
first  ....  It's  'Yes,  Doctor,  No, 
Doctor.' " 

"Oh,  they  have  to,  at  work,  you 
know.  Lives  depend  upon  it— 
upon  absolute  and  quick  obedience 
of  nurses  to  doctors,  but  .  .  .  ." 

"But  what?" 

"I  have  wondered  how  much  of 
it  affects  Margaret  in  her  feeling 
for  Dr.  Harmon,  and  how  much  is 
real  between  them.  I  guess  you 
could   really  put  all   this  down  as 


a  mother's  case  of  jitters.  It  is  just  conversation  with  her,  his  strong  de- 

that   tomorrow   she   is   buying  her  sire  for  more  to  come— of  the  emo- 

wedding  dress  and  it  seems  so  . . . ."  tion  that  had  shaken  him  at  her 

She  stopped,  for  Steve  had  presence,  his  sharp  awareness  when- 
dropped  his  fork  with  a  great  clat-  ever  she  entered  a  room.  He  re- 
t^r.  membered  the  day  he  had  wanted 

''....  so  final!''  to   kiss  her.     Now  he  wished   he 

"It  does,  indeed!"  agreed  Steve  had.  He  would  at  least  have  had 
fervently,  applying  himself  fever-  that  to  remember. 
ishly  to  stuffing  food  into  the  Steve  groaned.  There  was  noth- 
mouths  of  the  children.  For  him-  ing  whatever  to  be  gained  from 
self,  he  could  not  eat  another  bite,  such  thinking,  and  nothing  to  do 
and  found  excuse  to  leave  the  table  but  what  he  had  done  before— 
shortly.  work,  and  work  hard.  There  was 
*****  plenty  waiting  for  him— plenty  con- 
T  OOKING  at  it  coldly,  later,  he  nected  with  his  new  position  as 
realized  that  certainly  she  would  vice-president  of  Pikes  Peak.  It  was 
be  buying  her  wedding  dress.  Sure-  more  than  the  work  and  routine  in- 
ly she  loved  Dr.  Harmon,  and,  of  volved.  In  giving  him  stock  and 
course,  there  was  nothing  wrong  making  him  vice-president,  J.  T. 
with  the  man.  Steve,  deep  in  dis-  had  by-passed  some  old  and  faith- 
appointment,  wondered  what  he  ful  employees.  While  there  was 
had  expected— what  he  had  wanted,  nothing  anyone  could  do  about  it, 
Discovery  that  Dr.  Harmon  had  Steve  knew  that  to  many  he  was  a 
impossible  vices?  Was  a  liar?  A  newcomer  who  had  to  justify  J.  T.'s 
philanderer?  Jealousy,  Steve  thought,  faith  in  him. 

could  quickly   undermine  a  man's  There  was  J.  T.  himself.     Steve 

finer  nature.  had  occasion  to  think  many  times 

Jealousy  had  nothing  to  do  with  that  everything  had  its  price;  noth- 
Steve's  love  for  Margaret,  however,  ing  was  free  of  payment.  It  only 
with  the  sinking  sense  of  loss  he  remained  to  choose  the  coin  of  pay- 
had  when  he  thought  of  her  wed-  ment.  Grateful  as  he  was  for  J.  T.'s 
ding,  with  the  knife-edge  of  despair  interest  and  generosity,  and  for  the 
turning  in  his  heart,  thinking  of  her  seeming  fairy  tale  opening  for  him, 
beyond  his  reach  forever,  once  she  he  came  to  know  what  the  old  man 
was  married.  He  tried  to  think  of  meant  when  he  said:  ''Humor  me 
other  things,  to  close  the  unhappy  in  my  whims,''  for  J.  T.  was  becom- 
subject  from  his  mind,  but  all  ing  more  irascible  every  day.  Steve 
across  town,  on  his  way  to  work,  had  come  to  his  new  duties  totally 
little  snatches  of  conversation  came  unprepared  in  m.any  respects,  and 
vividly  to  his  mind,  little  visions  of  lacking  in  capacity  in  many  ways 
her  slim  white  figure  moving  for  the  job.  He  was  trying  hard  to 
through  his  house,  of  her  cradling  master  each  detail,  but  J.  T.  always 
the  little,  sick  Phyllis,  of  Davey  and  seemed  to  be  pushing  him  just  a 
Ilene  trotting  faithfully  after  her,  little  beyond  his  ability.  Steve  took 
arguing  "My  mama!"  "No,  my  most  of  it  gladly  as  a  means  of  new 
mama!"     He  thought  of  his  own  growth,  but  the  older  nxau  \?<as  not 



above  reminding  him  that  he  was 
the  beneficiary  of  J.  T.'s  bounty, 
and  that  was  harder  to  take- 
sometimes  seemed  impossible. 

'TouVe  done  a  lot  for  me,  and 
I  appreciate  it,"  he  told  J.  T.  once, 
''but  you  haven't  bought  me!" 

''Now,  now!  Steve,  calm  down," 
J.  T.  had  shouted.  "Can't  you  let 
an  old  man  have  his  joke?" 

CTEVE  wasn't  so  easily  appeased. 
"You  still  have  your  wits,  }.  T., 
and  you  don't  need  to  hide  behind 
Father  Time." 

To  Steve's  dismay  the  intercom 
had  been  open,  and  report  of  the 
little  intercharge  went  all  through 
the  plant,  or  so  Miss  Tate  reported, 
with  mirth.  Steve  was  upset  about 
it,  for  he  loved  }.  T.  and  all  he 
stood  for,  but  the  men  looked  at 
him  with  deep  respect  after  that. 
Very  few  of  them  dared  to  brave 
the  old  man's  roaring  voice  and 
belligerent  attitude,  although  all  of 
them  knew  his  bigness  of  heart. 
The  affair  of  the  cable  was  a  case 
in  point.  It  was  a  lifting  cable  of 
one  of  the  cranes— the  only  crane, 
in  fact. 

Steve  noticed  it  weakening  when 
he  made  his  rounds.  He  mentioned 
it  to  J.  T.,  saying  they  had  better 
stop  loading  the  orders  of  ma- 
chinery onto  the  flat  cars  and  re 
place  it. 

"You're  just  like  all  new  vice- 
presidents,  Steve  —  think  money 
comes  easy.  Hang  it  all,  we've 
only  got  one  crane,  and  that  order 
is  a  rush  job." 

"Each  of  our  men  has  only  one 
life,"  retorted  Steve. 

"That  cable  is  still  good  as  new," 
argued  J.  T. 

"It  has  to  be  changed,"  Steve 
shot  back. 

"Look  who's  giving  orders," 
shouted  J.  T.  "Who  do  you  think 
you  are,  the  president?" 

"I'm  next  thing  to  it,"  Steve  gave 

"Sure  that  cable  has  to  be 
changed,"  said  J.  T.  in  a  voice 
which  was  suddenly  soft.  "It's  going 
to  be  changed  just  as  soon  as  this 
order  is  filled." 

Steve,  feeling  grateful  for  the 
compromise,  not  wanting  to  push 
J.  T.  too  far,  let  it  go  for  the  pres- 
ent, although  he  kicked  himself  for 
spinelessness  afterward.  If  a  thing 
was  dangerous,  it  was  dangerous. 
Well,  tomorrow  was  Saturday;  the 
order  would  be  finished  and  shipped. 
The  first  thing  Steve  would  do 
Monday  morning  would  be  to  have 
that  cable  changed. 

To  his  relief,  Saturday  passed 
without  mishap.  Perhaps  he  had 
misjudged  the  danger.  Saturday 
was  also  the  night  to  take  Miss 
Tate  to  the  theatre.  It  was  another 
fine  experience.  Steve  had  to  admit 
Miss  Tate  had  excellent  taste,  but 
again  he  wished  for  Margaret.  In 
one  moment  of  suspense  Miss 
Tate's  hand  sought  his.  She  seemed 
almost  unconscious  of  the  act,  but 
he  had  the  impulse  of  withdrawal, 
however,  he  returned  the  pressure 

It  was  a  mistake,  for  when  they 
went  to  the  lobby  for  intermission 
she  clung  to  him  possessively,  link- 
ing her  arm  in  his,  and  Steve  felt 
uncomfortable,  that  she  was  dis- 
playing him  as  her  own.  Not  that 
it  mattered.  He  was  a  stranger  in 
a  strange  land,  but  as  they  turned 
to  leave  the  lobby  for  their  seats, 
they  came  face  to  face  with  Mar- 
garet and  Dr.  Harmon. 

(To  be  continued) 


Margaiet  C.  Pickeiing,  General  Secretary-Treasurer 

All  material  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  "Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950^  page  278,  and 
the  Handbook  of  Instructions,  page  123.  v^^r&y, 


•n   submitted  by  Mae   P.   Matis 



Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Senja  Aalto,  Lahti;  Sofia  Ranta,  Helsinki;  Mae 
P.  Matis,  President,  Finnish  Mission  Rehef  Society;  Anna  Liisa  Laakso,  Tampere. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Ida  Johannson,  Fori;  Toini  Halonen,  Turku; 
Maila  ValKama,  Helsinki;  Korttu  Myynti,  Vasa;  Kerttu  Rautavaara,  Jakobstad. 

Mae  P.  Matis,  President,  Finnish  Mission  Relief  Society,  in  reporting  on  the  ac- 
tivities of  the  enthusiastic  Relief  Society  sisters  of  Finland,  writes:  "Everything  is  fine 
here  in  the  Finnish  Mission.  Our  sisters  are  all  working  hard  on  bazaars  and  enjoying 
the  lessons  ....  I  am  enclosing  a  picture  of  our  mission-wide  conference  in  Fori  last 
spring.  These  conferences  are  always  a  spiritual  feast,  and  they  give  a  feeling  of  unity 
and  strength  to  the  sisters  who  are  so  new  in  this  work.  The  group  includes  a  work 
director  from  each  branch  participating  in  the  conference.  Each  of  them  had  brought 
an  article  or  two  of  handwork  to  exhibit  at  our  conference  ....  I  am  so  proud  of 
each  of  our  groups  and  the  things  they  accomplish.  They  are  mindful  of  the  sick  and 
poor  and  always  willing  to  give  of  their  substance  to  help  those  less  fortunate.  .  .  , 
All  the  Finnish  sisters  join  with  me  in  sending  to  all  members  of  the  general  board 
our  love  and  best  wishes  .  .  .  ." 

Page  117 



Photograph  submitted  by   Virginia   K.   Campbell 


Standing  in  front  of  the  piano,  left  to  right:   Ruth  Sessions,  chorister;  Virginia 
K.  Campbell,  President;  Charlotte  Brown,  organist;  Thelma  Welker,  assistant  organist. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Elizabeth  W.  Hatch 


Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Elsie  Millward,  First  Counselor;  Elva  A.  Call. 
President;  Elnora  Shipley,  Second  Counselor. 

Second  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Faye  Cooper;  Martha  Stoddard;  Martha 
Shipley;  Klea  C.  Perkins,  Secretary;  Wanda  Whitworth;  Lenna  Bowler;  A'vanda  Ship- 
ley; Bertha  Simons;  Marcelle  Hatch;  Ida  Miles;  DeLila  Simons. 

Third  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Ann  Whitworth,  organist;  Grace  Whitworth, 
literature  class  leader;  Elsa  Marie  Wilson;  Thelma  Redford,  theology  class  leader;  Idris 
Hebdon;  Elizabeth  Hatch,  social  science  class  leader;  Agatha  Hatch;  Grace  Byington. 

Elizabeth  W.  Hatch  is  president  of  Idaho  Stake  Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Mildred  M.  Dillman 

DENVER,  COLORADO,  August  27th  and  28th,   1953 

Front  row,  left  to  right:  Grace  Gardner,  President,  Pueblo  District;  Emma  Mae 
Allen,  President,  West  Nebraska  District;  Mima  Tuttle,  President,  West  Colorado 
District;  Clarinda  Roundy,  President,  West  New  Mexico  District;  Ray  E.  Dillman, 
President,  Western  States  Mission;  Mildred  M.  Dillman,  President,  Western  States  Mis- 
sion Relief  Societ)';  Belle  S.  Spafford,  General  President  of  Relief  Society;  Kate  Whet- 
ten,  Counselor,  Western  States  Mission  Relief  Society;  Louine  Cromar;  Hazel  Loy; 
Colleen  Kirgan;  Reva  Johnson,  President,  Delta,  Colorado,  Relief  Society. 

Second  row,  left  to  right:  Cloravella  Brooks,  Del  Norte  Relief  Society;  Alma 
Schofield,  President,  San  Luis  District;  Anna  Davis,  President,  Albuquerque  Branch 
Relief  Society;  Hazel  King,  Albuquerque;  Bertha  Jensen,  theology  class  leader,  West 
Colorado  District;  Maymie  Riding;  Lerena  Barlow,  work  director,  West  Colorado  Dis- 
trict; Evelyn  McKinnon,  Counselor,  West  Colorado  District;  Gladys  Knight;  Mildred 
Moss;  Florence  Grow. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Elva  J.  Beal 


At  left,  front  row.  Fern  Gunderson,  reader;  standing  directly  behind  the  organ 
on  the  front  row,  Alta  Hansen,  chorister;  second  from  the  left  on  the  second  row, 
Elva  J.  Beal,  President,  Lost  River  Stake  Relief  Society;  standing  directly  in  front 
of  the  piano,  Bernice  Wennergren,  pianist;  ninth  from  the  left,  back  row,  Mary  B. 
Tibbits,  First  Counselor. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Stella  C.  Nelson 


Stella  C.  Nelson,  President,  Hawaiian  Mission  Relief  Society,  reports  that  the 
sisters  in  the  Hawaiian  Mission  are  enthusiastic  workers,  and  the  Mau  District  Con- 
vention was  unusually  successful:  "We  had  eighty-three  in  attendance  at  the  morning 
session,  and  eighty-two  in  the  afternoon.  The  theme  was  'Better  Planning  Makes  the 
Relief  Society  More  Interesting  All  Year.'  Maui  District  has  thirteen  active  Rehef 
Societies,  with  an  enrollment  of  175.  We  were  pleased  with  the  large  attendance,  as 
many  of  the  sisters  had  to  come  quite  a  distance  to  attend.  These  conventions  that 
we  have  held  throughout  our  mission  this  past  year,  I  am  sure,  will  be  a  great  help  in 
our  work.  Already  I  can  see  how  much  improvement  has  been  made  and  how  much 
more  interest  the  sisters  are  taking." 

Photograph   submitted  by  Nona  W.   Slade 


May  26,   1953 

Seated  at  left  side  of  left-hand  table,  left  to  right:  Cora  Stoddard;  Louisa  Ensign; 
Thelma  Ketcham;  Berneice  Brown.    At  end  of  left-hand  table,  left  to  right:  Ethel  Mar- 



riott;  Zella  Jones;  Luella  Dustin.     At  right  side  of  left-hand  table,  from  back  to  front: 
Grace  Adderley;  Olive  Wilson;  Erma  Vanden  Akker,  chorister;  Carrole  Vanden  Akker. 

Seated  at  the  right-hand  table,  beginning  at  the  front,  left:  Ida  C.  Cook;  Ardella 
Johnson;  Mary  Drake;  Esther  Mitchell;  Madohn  Jensen;  Alice  McFerrin;  Elsie  God- 
frey; Alice  Baker;  Martha  Van  Braak;  Virginia  Jensen;  Haleen  Christiansen;  Mary 

Standing  at  the  back,  left  to  right:  Norrine  Powers;  Lucy  Beckstead;  Reka  Vlaan- 
deren;  Anna  Cole;  Mary  Burgess;  Second  Counselor  Catherine  Souter;  President  Mar- 
garet Reyns;  First  Counselor  Emily  Wilson;  Secretary  Laura  P.  Gamble;  work  meet- 
ing leader  Mary  Edith  Empey. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Betty  Buckley 

STAR  BRANCH  WORK  MEETING,  October  8,  1953 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Areola  Brady,  Secretary;  Salhe  Britt,  Second 
Counselor;  Betty  Buckley,  President;  Grace  Reed,  First  Counselor. 

Second  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Margaret  Britt;  Menerva  Cornley;  Katie  Smith. 

Third  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Leola  Reed;  Louise  Kimble;  Nellie  Ward; 
Beatrice  Dunn;  Edith  Norton;  Hazel  Smith. 

Fourth  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Susie  Newell;  Leanee  Britt;  Francis  Britt;  Nel- 
he  Calcote;  Rachel  Britt;  Mildred  Smith;  Eunice  Smith;  Blanche  Reed. 

Emily  E.  Ricks  is  president  of  the  Southern  States  Mission  Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Lavena  L.  Rohner 


Standing  in  front  of  the  piano,  left  to  right:  President  Lavena  L.  Rohner;  chorister 
Margaret  W.  Chapman. 

Seated  at  the  piano,  Lucille  Peel,  organist. 

President  Lavena  L.  Rohner  reports  that  this  group,  organized  in  1948,  has 
furnished  music  for  stake  conferences,  for  Relief  Society  conventions,  and  for  many 
socials.  They  have  presented  several  outstanding  Easter  cantatas,  including  the  lovely 
dramatic  presentation  of  "The  Seven  Last  Words  of  Christ."  Their  beautifully  ren- 
dered numbers  are  an  important  part  of  all  stake  Relief  Society  gatherings. 

Photograph   submitted   by   EInora   T.    Loveland 


September  17,  1953 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  President  EInora  T.  Loveland;  First  Counselor 
Edna  Millar;  Second  Counselor  Wave  Hinckley;  Secretary  Lillian  Call;  visiting  teacher 
message  leader  Irene  Hayes. 

More  than  three  hundred  women  from  the  nine  wards  of  Boise  Stake  attended 
the  convention.  President  EInora  Loveland  presented,  as  a  pattern  for  the  visiting 
teachers,  the  following  qualities:  dependability,  tolerance,  charity,  love,  humility,  and 
prayer.  Sister  Mary  Emma  Russell  was  honored  as  having  served  for  the  longest  period 
of  time — fifty-two  years,  and  Mary  Porritt  was  honored  for  having  served  fifty  years. 
Twenty-four  of  the  visiting  teachers  have  served  for  twenty-five  years.  Eighty-three  of 
the  teachers  achieved  a  record  of  one  hundred  per  cent  for  the  past  year.  All  were 
given  beautiful  corsages  and  each  was  presented  with  a  copy  of  A  Centenary  of  Relief 



Photograph  submitted   by   Emma  L.    Stephens 


Left  to  right:  Annis  Badger,  ninety-two  years  old,  a  visiting  teacher  for  fifty  years; 
Bertha  Simmons,  sixty-seven  years  old,  who  has  served  as  a  visiting  teacher  for  fifty- 
one  years;  Charlotte  Swenson,  seventy-five,  who  has  served  as  a  visiting  teacher  for 
fifty-two  years.  Sister  Simmons  and  Sister  Swenson  still  visit  their  districts  each  month 

Emma  L.  Stephens  is  president  of  Lorin  Farr  Stake  Relief  Society. 

iuecause  of  I  fie 

Bertha  A.  Kleinman 

Before  I  lose  the  beauty  of  today, 
And  night  shall  pencil  out  the  horizon. 
Let  me  respond  with  something  brave  to  say, 
Something  for  you  before  the  day  is  gone. 
Before  I  lose  the  glint  of  this  sweet  hour, 
And  day's  routine  shall  portion  all  my  time. 
Let  me  some  message  with  its  good  empower, 
To  tell  you  how  I  love  you,  friend  of  mine! 
Before  I  lose  the  courage  you  have  taught, 
The  treasure  of  conviction  you  possess, 
Let  me  respond  in  some  reflected  thought 
To  carry  on  and  on  its  loveliness. 
Let  me  strive  on  some  oracle  to  be 
That  you  shall  yet  be  glad  because  of  ine. 


cJheology^ — Characters  ar^d  Teachings 
of  The  Book  of  Mormon 

Lesson  24— Alma,  Son  of  Alma 

Elder  LeJand  H.  Monson 

(Text:  The  Book  of  Mormon:  Alma  1-8) 

For  Tuesday,  May  4,  1954 

Objective:   To  point  out  the  influence  which  righteous  men  can  exert  in  a  de- 

A  FTER  the  death  of  Alma  the  fa- 
ther and  King  Mosiah,  Alma 
the  son  had  full  responsibility  for 
the  ecclesiastical  and  secular  affairs 
of  the  Nephites  throughout  the  land 
of  Zarahemla,  he  being  chief  judge 
and  high  priest.  (See  Mosiah 
29:42.)  The  task  of  administering 
the  government  was  based  upon 
laws  Mosiah  had  formulated,  and 
these  laws  had  been  accepted  by  the 
people.  Moreover,  the  people  had 
elected  their  lesser  judges  and  were 
aware  of  the  responsibility  which 
they  had  to  protect  and  preserve 
their  newly  given  liberties  under 
their  representative  form  of  govern- 


Always,  however,  there  are  peo- 
ple who  will  not  work  according  to 
a  pattern  established  by  the  ma- 
jority. Nehor  was  one  of  these 
men.  In  the  first  year  of  the  reign 
of  the  judges,  he  struggled  to  intro- 

Page  124 

duce  priestcraft  among  the  people. 
He  taught  that  every  priest  and 
every  teacher  ought  to  become  pop- 
ular, and  ought  not  to  labor  for  his 
own  support,  but  should  be  sup- 
ported by  the  people.  He  contended 
against  members  of  the  Church  be- 
cause they  preached  the  gospel  one 
to  another  without  money  and  with- 
out price. 

In  lieu  of  the  true  gospel,  Nehor 
taught  that  the  Lord  had  created 
all  men  and  had  redeemed  all  men, 
and,  in  the  end,  all  men  should  have 
eternal  life. 

Nehor  found  many  people  who 
believed  his  words,  and  he  even  be- 
gan to  establish  a  church.  But  Ne- 
hor was  not  willing  to  rely  upon  his 
persuasive  power  alone,  but  sought 
to  enforce  his  views  by  means  of  the 

One  day  Nehor  met  Gideon,  who 
had  been  an  instrument  in  the 
hands  of  God  in  delivering  Limhi 
and  his  people  out  of  bondage,  a 



teacher  and  a  valiant  defender  of 
the  faith.  Altercations  arose  be- 
tween them  when  Gideon  opposed 
Nehor's  point  of  view.  As  the  argu- 
ment became  more  heated,  Nehor 
unsheathed  his  sword  and  slew 
Gideon,  who  was  old  and  not  able 
to  withstand  Nehor's  blows. 

Nehor  was  given  a  trial  and  was 
judged  by  Alma  in  accordance  with 
the  law  which  has  been  established 
among  the  people  by  Mosiah.  By 
the  law  Alma  condemned  him  to 
death  as  a  murderer.  He  was  also 
guilty  of  priestcraft  and  had  sought 
to  enforce  it  by  the  sword.  Nehor 
was,  therefore,  taken  to  the  top  of 
the  hill  Manti  and  was  put  to  death. 

Nehor's  death,  however,  did  not 
end  priestcraft,  for  there  were  other 
greedy  souls  who  sought  for  riches 
and  honor.  These  men  contrived 
to  preach  false  doctrines,  feigning 
a  sincere  belief  in  them,  because 
they  knew  that  the  laws  of  Mosiah 
punished  a  liar,  but  the  law  had  no 
power  on  any  man  for  his  belief. 
Resultant  conditions  brought  the 
withdrawal  and  excommunication  of 
many  from  the  Church. 

Persecution  of  the  members  of 
the  Church  followed.  This  persecu- 
tion solidified  the  group.  Those  who 
had  sufficient  food  shared  with  the 
poor,  the  needy,  and  the  afflicted. 
The  people  realized  that  all  were 
equally  precious  in  the  sight  of  God, 
that  the  preacher  was  no  better  than 
the  hearer,  nor  the  teacher  than  the 

A  spirit  of  greater  co-operation 
entered  among  the  members  of  the 
Church,  and  they  increased  in  all 
kinds  of  wealth.  They  had  an 
abundance  of  flocks,  herds,  grain, 
gold,  silver,  silk,  linen,  and  other 

precious  things.  They  regarded 
their  wealth,  not  as  an  end,  but  as 
a  means;  they  did  not  set  their 
hearts  upon  riches  but  were  liberal 
to  all.  They  clothed  the  naked,  fed 
the  hungry,  and  administered  relief 
to  the  sick. 

This  condition  did  not  exist 
among  those  who  did  not  belong  to 
the  Church.  Following  such  base 
and  wicked  practices  as  idleness,  gos- 
siping, idolatry,  whoredoms,  sor- 
ceries, and  murderings,  contentions 
arose  among  them  and  they  wasted 
what  they  did  gather  together, 
showing  how  a  lack  of  righteousness 
produces  economic  deterioration 
among  a  people. 


In  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  year 
of  the  reign  of  the  judges,  another 
complex  problem  arose.  A  minority 
group  of  the  people  sought  to  make 
Amiici  their  king.  They  realized,  of 
course,  that  it  must  be  done  by  the 
consent  of  the  people.  All  the  peo- 
ple gathered  together  *'to  cast  in 
their  voices  concerning  the  matter 
....  and  the  voice  of  the  people 
came  against  Amiici."  Dissatisfied 
with  the  result,  and  unwilling  to 
abide  by  the  decision  of  the  ma- 
jority, Amiici  encouraged  his  fol- 
lowers to  disregard  the  majority,  and 
he  was  soon  made  king  over  the  mi- 
nority group. 

In  the  terrible  battle  which  fol- 
lowed, the  Amlicites  were  defeated. 
Spies  sent  by  Alma  followed  the 
fleeing  Amlicites  as  far  as  the  land 
of  Minon,  above  the  land  of  Zara- 
hemla.  They  reported  that  the 
Amlicites  had  joined  with  a  numer- 
ous host  of  Lamanites  and  were  at- 
tacking the  Nephites  living  in  that 



Strengthened  by  the  righteousness 
of  their  cause  and  by  the  hand  of 
the  Lord,  the  Nephites  defeated  the 
combined  forces  of  the  Lamanites 
and  Amhcites  *  as  numerous  almost, 
as  it  were,  as  the  sands  of  the  sea" 
(Alma  2:27).  Alma  fought  face  to 
face  with  Amlici  in  the  battle  with 
swords,  and  Alma  being  strength- 
ened by  the  Lord,  slew  Amlici. 

By  the  sixth  year  of  the  reign  of 
the  judges  peace  was  restored 
throughout  the  land.  However, 
every  soul  had  cause  to  mourn— 
mourning  over  the  loss  of  their 
loved  ones,  and  the  destruction  of 
their  grain,  flocks,  and  herds.  The 
people  believed  ''it  was  the  judg- 
ments of  God  sent  upon  them  be- 
cause of  their  wickedness  and  .  .  . 
they  were  awakened  to  a  remem- 
brance of  their  duty''  (Alma  4:3) 
and  turned  to  their  God  for  help. 
Many  converts  were  baptized  in  the 
waters  of  the  river  Sidon,  and  they 
began  to  establish  the  Church  more 

However,  in  the  eighth  year,  pride 
entered  the  hearts  of  the  people 
and  wickedness  sapped  their  vitality. 
They  ''set  their  hearts  upon  riches 
and  upon  the  vain  things  of  the 
world"  (Alma  4:8)  and  did  not  put 
first  things  first,  to  seek  after  the 
real  satisfactions  of  life. 

Wickedness  in  the  Church  be- 
came a  "great  stumbling-block  to 
those  who  did  not  belong  to  the 
church"  (Alma  4:10). 

AJma  Delivers  Up  the 

Recognizing  this  decline  in  spirit- 
uality and  feeling  the  dire  need  for 
curbing  it,  Alma  delivered  the  judg- 
ment-seat to  Nephihah  according  to 

the  voice  of  the  people,  "and  con- 
fined himself  wholly  to  the  high 
priesthood  of  the  holy  order  of  God, 
to  the  testimony  of  the  word,  ac- 
cording to  the  spirit  of  revelation 
and  prophecy  ....  This  he  did  that 
he  himself  might  go  forth  among 
his  people  .  .  .  that  he  might  preach 
the  word  of  God  unto  them,  to  stir 
them  up  in  remembrance  of  their 
duty,  and  that  he  might  pull  down, 
by  the  word  of  God,  all  the  pride 
and  craftiness  and  all  the  conten- 
tions which  were  among  his  people, 
seeing  no  way  that  he  might  reclaim 
them  save  it  were  in  bearing  down 
in  pure  testimony  against  them" 
(Alma  4:20,  19). 

He  preached  to  them  in  their 
cities  and  villages,  denouncing  their 
iniquities  and  calling  upon  them  to 
repent.  He  frequently  used  the 
rhetorical  question  as  a  means  of  en- 
forcing his  ideas. 

Have  you  sufficiently  retained  in  re- 
membrance the  captivity  of  your  fathers? 
.  .  .  were  they  destroyed?  ....  What 
grounds  had  they  to  hope  for  salvation? 
....  have  ye  spiritually  been  bom  of 
God?  ....  Have  ye  experienced  this 
mighty  change  in  your  hearts?  Do  ye 
exercise  faith  in  the  redemption  of  Inm 
who  created  you?  ....  Have  ye  walked, 
keeping  yourselves  blameless  before  God? 
.  .  .  .  are  ye  stripped  of  pride?  ....  is 
there  one  among  you  who  is  not  stripped 
of  envy?   (Alma  5:6  ff.). 

He  answered  all  of  these  ques- 
tions at  once  by  saying: 

Wo  unto  all  ye  workers  of  iniquity;  re- 
pent, repent,  for  the  Lord  God  hath  spok- 
en it!  ...  .  Yea,  he  saith:  .  .  ,  come  unto 
me  and  bring  forth  works  of  righteous- 
ness, and  ye  shall  not  be  hewn  down  and 
cast  into  the  fire — For  behold,  the  time  is 
at  hand  that  whosoever  .  .  .  doeth  not  the 
works  of  righteousness,  the  same  have 
cause  to  wail  and  mourn  (Alma  ^-.t^i  ft.). 



Alma  did  more  than  call  people  to 
repentance.  He  gave  them  his  per- 
sonal testimony  that  Jesus  Christ, 
the  Only  Begotten  of  the  Father, 
should  come  to  earth  and  atone  for 
the  sins  of  every  man  who  would 
repent  and  believe  in  him.  Infusing 
this  testimony  into  the  hearts  of  his 
people,  was  the  most  powerful 
means  he  had  at  his  command  to 
get  them  to  repent  and  do  works 
of  righteousness,  following  the  Good 
Shepherd,  Jesus  Christ. 

Alma  Preaches  to  People  in  Gideon 
After  this  beginning  to  establish 
the  order  of  the  Church  in  Zara- 
hemla  (Alma  7:4),  and  after  having 
ordained  priests  and  teachers  to  pre- 
side and  watch  over  the  Church,  he 
went  to  the  valley  of  Gideon  to  con- 
tinue his  reform  movement.  He 
complimented  them  on  being  "in 
the  paths  of  righteousness."  He  told 
them  that  the  time  was  not  far 
distant  when  the  Redeemer  would 
come  and  live  among  his  people  in 
a  tabernacle  of  flesh.    He  said: 

And  behold,  he  shall  be  born  of  Mary, 
at  Jerusalem  which  is  the  land  of  our  fore- 
fathers, she  being  a  virgin,  a  precious  and 
chosen  vessel,  who  shall  be  overshadowed 
and  conceive  by  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  bring  forth  a  son,  yea  even  the 
Son  of  God  (Alma  7:10). 

Alma  called  upon  non-members 
of  the  Church  to  cast  aside  their 
sins.  He  also  warned  them  that 
God  cannot  dwell  in  unholy  temples 
and  urged  them  after  baptism  to 
walk  blameless  before  him.  He 

And  now  I  would  that  ye  should  be 
humble,  and  be  submissive  and  gentle; 
easy  to  be  entreated;  full  of  patience  and 
long-suflFering;  being  temperate  fn  all 
things;  being  dihgent  in  keeping  the  com- 

mandments of  God  at  all  times;  asking 
for  whatsoever  things  ye  stand  in  need, 
both  spiritual  and  temporal;  always  re- 
turning thanks  unto  God  for  whatsoever 
things  ye  do  receive.  And  see  that  ye  have 
faith,  hope,  and  charity,  and  then  ye  will 
always  abound  in  good  works  (Alma 

Having  established  the  order  of 
the  Church  in  Gideon,  as  he  had 
in  Zarahemla,  Alma  returned  to  his 
own  home  to  rest. 

Alma  Preaches  to  People  oi  MeJek 
In  the  tenth  year  of  the  reign  of 
the  judges,  Alma  went  to  the  land 
of  Melek,  west  of  the  river  Sidon. 
These  people  were  responsive  to  his 
message  and  came  to  him  through- 
out all  the  land  of  Melek  for  bap- 

AJma  Journeys  to  Ammonihah 

When  he  had  finished  his  work 
at  Melek,  Alma  entered  Ammoni- 
hah. These  people  were  wicked, 
and  they  would  not  hearken  to  his 
message.  They  ''reviled  him,  and 
spit  upon  him,  and  caused  that  he 
should  be  cast  out  of  their  city,"  say- 

We  know  that  because  we  are  not  of 
thy  church  we  know  that  thou  hast  no 
power  over  us;  and  thou  hast  delivered 
up  the  judgment-seat  unto  Nephihah; 
therefore  thou  art  not  the  chief  judge  over 
us  (Alma  8:12). 

Weighed  down  with  sorrow  and 
anguish  of  soul.  Alma  started  for 
the  city  of  Aaron.  But  he  did  not 
reach  that  city,  for  an  angel  of  the 
Lord  appeared  to  him  and  said: 

Blessed  art  thou,  Alma;  therefore,  lift 
up  thy  head  and  rejoice,  for  thou  hast 
great  cause  to  rejoice;  for  thou  hast  been 
faithful  in  keeping  the  commandments  of 
God  from  the  time  which  thou  receivedst 
thy  first  message  from  him.  Behold,  I  am 



he    that    delivered    it    unto    you    (Alma 

This  angel  instructed  him  to  re- 
turn to  Ammonihah  and  foretell 
the  destruction  of  the  people  ex- 
cept they  repented.  Built  up  in  his 
faith  and  knowing  that  God  was 
pleased  with  his  work,  Alma  re- 
turned speedily  to  the  land  of  Am- 
monihah. As  he  entered  the  city, 
hungry  and  tired,,  he  met  a  man 
whom  he  asked  for  something  to 
eat.    This  man  said  to  Alma: 

I  am  a  Nephite,  and  I  know  that  thou 
art  a  holy  prophet  of  God,  for  thou  art 
the  man  whom  an  angel  said  in  a  vision: 
Thou  shalt  receive  (Alma  8:20). 

This  man,  Amulek,  became  Al- 
ma's missionary  companion.  To- 
gether they  were  to  preach  repent- 
ance to  the  people  of  Ammonihah. 

God  strengthened  them  and  they 
had  power  given  to  them  so  they 
could  not  be  confined  in  dungeons 
or  slain. 

And  it  came  to  pass  that  they  went 
forth  and  began  to  preach  and  to  prophesy 
unto  the  people,  according  to  the  spirit 
and  power  which  the  Lord  had  gixen 
them  (Alma  8:32). 

Questions  for  Discussion 

1.  Why  did  Alma  consider  priestcraft 
dangerous?  Discuss  priestcraft  as  set  forth 
in  Alma  1:3;  and  2  Nephi  26:29. 

2.  Why  was  Alma  concerned  about  the 
efforts   of  Amlici   to  become  king? 

3.  How  does  iniquity  in  our  Church 
serve  as  a  stumbling  block  to  those  out- 
side the  Church? 

4.  How  industrious  was  Alma  in  the 
service  of  God? 

5.  What  can  we  learn  from  this  lesson 
concerning  the  solution  of  our  national 

ViSitifig  cJeacher  1 1  iessages 

Book  of  Mormon  Gems  of  Truth 

Lesson  24— '\  . .  Seek  Not  to  Counsel  the  Lord,  But  to  Take  Counsel  From  His 
Hand.  For  Behold,  Ye  Yourselves  Know  That  He  Counseleth  in  Wisdom,  and 
in  Justice,  and  in  Great  Mercy,  Over  All  His  Works"  (Jacob  4:10). 

Leone  O.  Jacobs 
For  Tuesday,  May  4,  1954 
Objective:  To  stress  the  wisdom  of  adherence  to  the  counsel  of  God. 

/^FTEN  we  attempt  to  counsel 
the  Lord,  though  perhaps  we  do 
not  reahze  we  are  doing  so.  We 
tell  the  Lord  what  to  give  us,  we 
beseech,  plead,  almost  demand  cer- 
tain blessings,  or  special  help  from 
difficulties  we  are  in,  without  re- 
membering that  he  knows,  far  bet- 
ter than  we,  what  is  best  for  us. 

In  Mosiah  (chapter  4,  verse  9), 
King  Benjamin  says:  "...  man  doth 
not    comprehend    all    the    things 

which  the  Lord  can  comprehend." 
If  we  are  always  aware  of  this  fact, 
then,  when  we  petition  the  Lord  for 
blessings  and  aid,  we  will  say  to 
him  in  substance,  ''Heavenly  Fa- 
ther, we  desire  this  blessing  very 
much,  but  thou  knowest  what  is 
best  for  us.  We  will  accept  thy 
decision  and  thy  will." 

A  young  woman  was  critically  in- 
jured in  an  automobile  accident. 
When  friends  called  to  express  the 



hope  that  she  would  recover,  her 
father  said,  ''We  are  asking  our 
Heavenly  Father  that  she  recover, 
but  we  are  bowing  to  his  greater 
wisdom  to  do  what  is  best." 

Our  role  in  seeking  divine  aid  is 
to  ask  in  sincerity  and  faith  for  the 
things  which  we  desire  and  which 
we  truly  feel  would  be  for  our  good, 
and  then  to  leave  the  decision  to 
our  Fathei  in  Heaven.  Elder  Mat- 
thew Cowley  has  said,  ''Let  us  live 
worthy  of  the  things  we  pray  for, 
and  pray  for  the  things  we  are 
worthy  of"  (General  Conference, 
April  1952).  The  matter  of  wor- 
thiness is  also  to  be  considered. 

In  viewing  the  marvelous  works 
of  the  Lord,  surely  we  acknowledge 
his  supreme  power.  We  recognize 
the  order  and  precision  with  which 
he  governs  the  forces  of  the  uni- 
verse. How,  then,  can  we  doubt 
that  he  knows  the  needs  of  his  sons 
and  daughters? 

To  argue  against  the  Lord's  coun- 
sel or  to  look  for  excuses  for  not 
following  it,  is  very  unwise.  Some 
may  say,  "I  believe  I  can  keep  the 

Sabbath  day  by  driving  up  the  can- 
yons amid  the  beauties  of  nature 
just  as  well  as  by  attending  meet- 
ings." But  the  Lord  has  counseled, 
even  commanded,  "Thou  shalt  go 
to  the  house  of  prayer  and  offer  up 
thy  sacraments  upon  my  holy  day" 
(D.  &  C.  59:9).  There  should  be 
wholehearted  acquiescence  by  his 
children  and  a  great  feeling  of  grati- 
tude for  being  so  instructed. 

To  accept  counsel  from  the  hand 
of  the  Lord  means  also  to  accept 
the  counsel  of  his  authorized  rep- 
resentatives. The  Lord  does  not 
come  to  each  one  of  us  personally 
with  counsel;  but  he  gives  instruc- 
tion through  his  authorized  serv- 
ants. In  the  Doctrine  and  Cove- 
nants he  tells  us:  ".  .  .  whether  by 
mine  own  voice  or  by  the  voice  of 
my  servants,  it  is  the  same"  (D.  & 
C.  1:38). 

Willingness  to  accept  counsel 
from  recognized  authority  is  not  a 
sign  of  weakness;  on  the  contrary,  it 
is  a  sign  of  great  understanding  and 
wisdom.  ".  .  .  To  obey  is  better  than 
sacrifice,  and  to  hearken  than  the 
fat  of  rams"  (I  Samuel  15:22). 

Work    TUeeting—^sm^y  Money  Management 

(A  Course  Recommended  for  Use  by  Wards  and  Branches  at  Work  Meeting) 

Lesson  8-Spending  Your  Health  Dollar 

Rhea  H.  Gardner 

(For  Tuesday,  May  11,  1954) 

costs  are  constant.  However,  health 
and  medical  costs  are  uncertain  and 
unpredictable.  For  this  reason,  the 
cost  of  ill  health  is,  for  most  fam- 
ilies, the  hardest  of  all  expenditures 
to  meet. 
The  average  family  spends  about 

^^r^OOD  health  is  something  peo- 
pie  appreciate  most  when  they 
don't  have  it." 

Buying  good  health  is  not  the 
same  as  spending  money  for  food, 
clothing,  and  shelter.  These  needs 
can    be    budgeted    because    their 



five  per  cent  of  its  income  for  medi- 
cal and  dental  care.  It  may  claim 
as  much  as  one  hundred  per  cent, 
thus  completely  upsetting  the  eco- 
nomic stability  of  the  family,  un- 
less a  reserve  fund  has  been  built  up 
for  this  purpose. 

Money  spent  wisely  for  the  pres- 
ervation of  health  pays  bigger  divi- 
dends than  does  any  other  kind  of 
investment.  In  setting  up  a  budget 
for  family  health,  it  is  well  to  plan 
for  costs  relative  to  the  preservation 
of  it.  Prevention  is  as  a  rule  cheaper 
than  cure. 

Medical  care  is  only  one  factor 
in  keeping  the  individual  and  the 
family  in  a  good  state  of  health.  The 
best  medical  service  cannot  be  suc- 
cessful unless  the  patient  has  suit- 
able food,  good  housing,  adequate 
recreation,  practices  simple  rules  of 
hygiene,  and  is  reasonably  free  from 
emotional  anxieties.  Our  attitudes 
and  practices  with  respect  to  these 
things  are  all  important  to  healthful 

.If  all  would  observe  the  adage 
''don't  let  fatigue  catch  up  with 
you,"  millions  of  health  dollars 
could  be  saved  each  year.  Often 
those  persons  who  do  not  have  time 
for  short  rest  periods,  end  up  spend- 
ing long  periods  in  complete  ''rest," 
either  at  home  or  in  a  hospital. 

Even  the  best  medicine  is  an  ex- 
pensive substitute  for  good  food. 
The  most  economical  places  to 
spend  your  health  dollars  are  at  the 
butcher  shops,  grocery  stores,  fruit 
and  vegetable  gardens,  rather  than 

There  is  no  justification  whatever  for 
the  widespread  use  of  vitamin  pills.  They 
supply  materials  that  are  readily  and  gen- 
erously available  in   a  well-rounded   diet. 

Infants,  small  children,  and  persons  un- 
able to  eat  all  foods  required  by  the  body, 
are  exceptions.  Their  diets  may  need  to 
be  supplemented  with  certain  vitamins. 
Act  on  the  advice  of  your  family  doctor 
in  this  regard. 

This  is  the  advice  of  Dr.  Maxwell 
M.  Wintrobe,  Head  of  the  College 
of  Medicine,  University  of  Utah. 

Being  prepared  for  emergencies 
by  having  a  good  first-aid  book  and 
a  complete  first-aid  kit  handy  has 
saved  many  families  thousands  of 
dollars.  Regard  them  as  necessities 
in  your  home  and  provide  a  first-aid 
kit  suitable  to  your  family's  need. 

Life-long  illness  or  even  death  is 
too  often  the  price  paid  for  neg- 
lect of  one  kind  or  another.  For 
example,  a  large  percentage  of  can- 
cer is  curable  if  detected  in  time, 
and  nearly  one  hundred  per  cent  of 
tuberculosis  is  curable  if  treated 

Practices  that  contribute  to  one's 
general  good  health,  aid  dental 
health,  also.  It  has  been  estimated 
that  at  least  one-third  of  all  dental 
troubles  could  be  prevented  if  we 
would  brush  the  teeth  correctly  at 
least  twice  each  day,  preferably  after 
each  meal,  eat  the  right  foods,  and 
have  a  dental  checkup  every  six 

Make  special  effort  each  day  to 
include  in  the  diet  some  raw  or 
crisp  food,  such  as  lettuce,  celery, 
carrots,  cabbage,  fruits,  hard  toast, 
or  bread  crusts.  They  cost  less  than 
do  dental  bills  that  are  likely  to  re- 
sult, if  these  foods  are  not  eaten. 
"All  persons  would  benefit  from  the 
standpoint  of  general  health  and 
especially  dental  health  by  keeping 
the  consumption  of  confections  and 
sweetened  beverages  to  a  mini- 
mum," advises  the  Council  on  Den- 



tal  Health  of  the  American  Dental 

Regardless  of  what  one  does  to 
safeguard  health,  medical  assistance 
is  needed  sooner  or  later  by  most 
of  us.  Membership  in  a  reliable 
health  insurance  plan  will  help  meet 
expenses  that  might  otherwise  place 
a  severe  hardship  on  the  family 
purse.  Prepayment  is  usually  less 
costly  and  easier  to  bear  than  post- 
payment.  In  considering  such  a 
plan  make  sure  you  understand  all 
the  provisions  in  the  policy. 

Do  you  know  how  much  the  seda- 
tives and  pain  killers  you  bought 
last  year  cost  you?  Chances  are, 
more  than  was  necessary,  if  you  let 
advertised  brands  influence  your 
choice.  The  same  product  may  cost 
four  or  five  times  more  under  a 
widely  advertised  name  than  one 
less  known.  So  long  as  USP  or 
NF  appears  on  the  label  you  aie 
assured  of  a  safe  product. 

It  has  been  estimated  that  more 
than  four  hundred  million  dollars 
is  spent  annually  by  Americans  for 
patent  medicines.  Some  of  this  huge 
sum  is  spent  on  drug  products  that 
are  dangerous  to  health,  or  virtually 
worthless  for  the  ailment  treated. 
Some  of  these  cure-alls  contain  a 
coal-tar  derivative  that,  say  medical 
atithoritiejS,  can  seriously  affect  the 

heart.  Furthermore,  since  pain  is 
considered  a  warning,  and  if  only 
pain  is  relieved,  a  disease  may  go 
undetected  until  a  cure  is  extremely 
costly,  if  not  impossible.  At  best, 
patients  get  a  harmless  pill  that  does 
nothing  to  relieve  the  basic  cause 
of  ill  health.  The  pocketbook  is 
relieved,  instead. 

Truly  wise  parents  will  not  bar- 
gain with  health.  They  and  their 
children  will  practice  simple  rules 
of  hygiene  and  good  health  each 
day.  They  will  select  a  doctor  from 
among  the  well-qualified  physicians 
and  rely  on  him  for  medical  advice 
and  assistance.  If  specialized  treat- 
ment becomes  necessary,  on  the  ad- 
vice of  the  family  doctor,  they  will 
consult  a  specialist.  Self-diagnosis 
and  self-treatment  are  dangerous. 

Health  protection  pays,  but  far 
sweeter  than  the  jingling  of  money 
saved,  or  more  money  earned  be- 
cause of  the  absence  of  illness,  is 
the  fact  that  by  protecting  our 
health  we  can  enjoy  more  years  of 
life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  hap- 

Thoughts  foi  Discussion 

1 .  Is  it  easier  to  get  people  to  fight 
disease  than  to  work  for  health? 

2.  Our  present  food  supply  is  the  safest 
and  most  nutritious  in  history,  yet  never 
before  has  so  much  been  spent  for  diet 

Louise  Morn's  Kdley 

All  sublimated  prayers  begun 

And  charitable  actions  done 

By  a  God-seeking  populace 

Will,  as  distilled,  pure  dewdrops,  rise 

To  unseen  reaches  of  the  skies, 

Forming  a  soul-cloud  cumulus, 

From  which,  should  there  be  want  or  pain, 

God's  blessings  may  pour  down  as  rain. 

JLiterature — The  Literature  of  England 

Lesson  40-Charlotte  Bronte  (1816-1855) 

Elder  Briant  S.  Jacobs 

(Text:   Jane  Eyre,  Modern  Library  Edition) 

For  Tuesday,  May  18,  1954 

Objective:  To  enter  more  fully  into  the  imaginative  reality  of  Jane  Eyre,  that  the 
significance  of  this  work  in  the  history  of  the  English  novel  might  be  better  under- 

npHE  three  Bronte  sisters  created 
their  art  out  of  a  most  barren, 
uneventful  actuality.  Anne's  novels 
are  at  least  competent;  Jane  Eyre, 
(pronounced  'air")  written  by 
Charlotte,  the  oldest  of  the  three, 
remains  after  106  years  a  great  and 
powerful  novel;  Emily's  Wutheiing 
Heights,  though  slower  to  gain  pop- 
ularity, today  is  considered  one  of 
the  great  books  in  the  language. 
And  the  greatness  of  their  ac- 
complishment lies  not  at  all  in 
their  restating  apparent  fact. 

Just  as  in  all  enduring  art,  the 
Bronte  sisters'  writing  pierces  far 
beneath  the  surface  of  facts  and 
creates  the  universal  imaginative 
reality.  Shakespeare's  Hamlet  has 
a  greater  reality  in  the  imaginations 
of  men  than  any  factual  Hamlet 
could  ever  enjoy.  Similarly,  the 
fictional  Jane  Eyre  is  immortal;  she 
exists,  a  great  imaginative  creation, 
and  one  which  might  better  help 
us  know  ourselves  and  our  fellows. 

Life  Sketch 

Her  creator,  Charlotte  Bronte, 
was  born  in  1816,  the  third  of  six 
children.  She  was  reared  in  the 
Haworth  parsonage  far  out  on  the 
lonely,  bleak  moors  of  Yorkshire, 
the  graveyard  immediately  on  one 
side  of  the  house,  the  moor  on  the 
other.  Her  parents,  Patrick  and 
Page  132 

Maria  Bronte,  were  Irish.  Both  had 
a  zest  for  writing. 

When  Mrs.  Bronte  died  in  1821, 
Charlotte  was  five.  At  once  Rev- 
erend Bronte  invited  Elizabeth 
Branwell,  his  wife's  sister,  to  come 
to  Haworth  parsonage  and  rear  his 
children.  She  came,  and  cared  for 
the  children  in  a  mechanical  way, 
but  she  took  her  meals  alone,  and 
gave  the  children  little  love  or  at- 

Patrick,  the  father,  was  himself 
something  of  an  eccentric.  He  spent 
most  of  his  time  alone  in  his  study 
writing  poetry  and  reading  widely. 

Thus  the  Bronte  children  had 
most  of  their  time  to  themselves  to 
wander  about  the  lonely  moor,  to 
read  and  play.  Though  their  home 
was  isolated,  it  was  not  an  unhappy 
home.  The  children  fulfilled  their 
own  intense  emotional  and  imagina- 
tive needs  as  best  they  could. 

When  Charlotte  was  eight,  the 
four  oldest  girls  were  sent  to  a 
school  for  clergymen's  daughters 
where  they  were  most  unhappy.  Be- 
fore the  year  ended  all  came  home. 
The  two  sisters  older  than  Charlotte 
died  of  tuberculosis  shortly  after  re- 
turning home.  It  was  not  long 
afterward  that  Charlotte,  now  the 
leader  of  the  children,  began  writ- 
ing imaginary  sketches  about  a  set 
of  soldiers  given  her  brother  Bran- 



well.  These  stories,  written  by 
near-sighted  Charlotte  in  a  script  so 
small  that  it  can  be  read  with  ease 
only  with  a  magnifying  glass,  were 
as  exciting  as  they  were  voluminous. 
In  the  fifteen  months  before  she 
was  fifteen,  Charlotte  wrote  twenty- 
three  ''novels"  or  episodes  portray- 
ing a  mythical  kingdom  which  she 
called  Angria.  Most  of  the  main 
characters  and  many  plots  and 
events  of  her  mature  writings  first 
appeared  in  these  childhood  crea- 

After  attending  Miss  Wooler's 
school,  the  Bronte  sisters  acted  as 
governesses,  of  which  they  quickly 
tired.  Aspiring  to  open  their  own 
school,  they  attended  Mr.  Heger's 
school  in  Brussels  to  improve  their 
skill  in  language.  When  they  were 
called  home  at  the  death  of  their 
aunt,  only  Charlotte  returned  to 
Brussels  for  another  year. 

When  she  came  back  to  Haworth, 
she  advertised  for  pupils,  but  none 
came.  In  1845  the  three  sisters  dis- 
covered that  each  had  been  writing 
poetry  in  secret,  so  at  their  own  ex- 
pense they  published  their  poetry, 
signing  it  Currer  (Charlotte),  Ellis 
(Emily),  and  Acton  (Anne)  Bell. 
Only  two  copies  were  sold,  but  they 
had  experienced  the  thrill  of  seeing 
their  work  in  print. 

At  once  each  sister  began  writing 
a  novel,  Charlotte  writing  The  Pio- 
iessoT,  unpublished  until  after  her 
death.  When  it  was  sympathetical- 
ly declined  by  a  publisher,  she  was 
so  encouraged  that  she  began  Jane 
Eyre.  In  August  1847,  almost  a  year 
later,  it  was  completed,  and  the 
publisher's  reader  was  so  enthralled 
by  her  manuscript  that  he  sat  up 
ail  night  reading   it.   Published   in 

October,  Jane  Eyre  was  a  best  seller 
by  Christmas,  and  Charlotte  was 
immediately  famous.  She  went  to 
London,  met  the  great  literary  fig- 
ures, then  returned  home  to  care 
for  her  nearly  blind  father.  Soon 
her  debauched  brother  Branwell 
died,  followed  within  a  few  months 
by  both  Emily  and  Anne,  victims  of 
tuberculosis.  She  wrote  two  other 
novels,  Shiiley  and  ViJJette.  In  1854 
she  accepted  her  fourth  proposal  of 
marriage,  but  within  the  year  she 
died  in  childbirth,  age  thirty-nine. 

Plot  of  Jane  Eyre 

Naturally  Charlotte  is  the  heroine 
of  Jane  Eyre,  and  many  incidents 
parallel  those  of  her  own  life. 

The  novel  begins  with  Jane,  a 
ten-year-old  orphan,  hated  and  mis- 
treated in  the  home  of  her  aunt, 
Mrs.  Reed,  who  finally  becomes 
desperate  and  sends  Jane  to  a  semi- 
charitable  school  for  girls  where 
living  conditions  are  frighteningly 
inhumane.  After  eight  years  at  the 
school,  Jane  leaves  to  act  as  gov- 
ernness  at  Thornfield  Hall,  owned 
by  fierce,  disillusioned  Mr.  Roches- 
ter, much  older  than  Jane.  Through 
a  series  of  spirited  conversations 
they  fall  in  love  and  plan  to  marry, 
but  at  the  church  it  is  revealed  that 
Rochester  is  already  married,  having 
concealed  his  maniac  wife  for  more 
than  a  decade  in  the  attic  of  Thorn- 
field  Hall. 

Despite  her  intense  love  for 
Rochester,  Jane  leaves  him  im- 
mediately and,  destitute,  she  is  tak- 
en in  by  young  Reverend  St.  John 
Rivers  and  his  two  sisters.  They  are 
friends  at  once,  and  St.  John,  hav- 
ing dedicated  his  future  to  a  mis- 
sion   in    India,    persuades    Jane   so 



convincingly  to  enter  into  a  loveless 
marriage  with  him  that  she  is  almost 
ready  to  yield,  w^hen,  mysteriously, 
she  hears  Rochester  calling  her 
name.  She  rushes  back  to  Thorn- 
field  to  find  it  in  ruins,  burned  by 
Rochester's  mad  wife.  Nearby  she 
finds  Rochester  blind  and  maimed. 
Jane  marries  him.  In  time  his  sight 
returns  and  he  acknowledges  that 
God  has  tempered  judgment  with 
mercy  when  he  is  enabled  to  see  his 

Significance  oi  Jane  Eyre 

In  tone,  point  of  view,  intensity, 
and  purpose,  Charlotte  Bronte 
soared  beyond  and  above  earlier 
practices  in  English  fiction.  While 
earlier  English  novels  recorded  what 
the  heroine  said  and  did,  Charlotte 
Bronte  tells  vividly  what  and  how 
the  heroine  felt  deep  within.  Pre- 
viously, fiction  had  been  presented 
from  the  point  of  view  of  society, 
or  the  group;  it  is  significant  that 
Jane  Eyre's  world  of  reality  can  be 
communicated  to  the  reader  only 
by  telling  what  happens  within  one 
individual.  Without  reserve,  Jane 
shares  her  secret  impulses,  her 
hopes,  and  fears  with  the  reader. 
This  Miss  Bronte  does  so  well  that 
the  reader  cannot  help  but  live 
again  the  intensities  of  Jane's  own 
life  as  they  are  poured  onto  the 
page.  Thus  the  subject  matter  of 
Jane  Eyre  remains  as  universal  as  its 
appeal  is  enduring. 

Style  and  Mood 

From  the  first  sentence,  'There 
was  no  possibility  of  taking  a  walk 
that  day.  We  had  been  wander- 
ing, indeed,  in  the  leafless  shrub- 
bery an  hour  .  .  ."  to  the  conclud- 
ing chapter  beginning,  ''Reader,  I 


A  Perry  Picture 


married  him,"  we  are,  save  for  cer- 
tain imperfect  minor  passages,  com- 
pletely within  Charlotte  Bronte's 
realm  of  intense,  imaginative  re- 

Everything  reveals  Jane  to  us.  For 
example,  Miss  Bronte  utilizes  de- 
scriptions of  environment  to  create 
a  corresponding  mood  within  Jane. 
At  the  very  beginning  of  the  novel, 
when,  depressed  and  unloved  as  a 
child,  Jane  reads  in  books  of  ''the 
haunts  of  sea-fowl;  of  the  solitary 
rocks  and  promontories  by  them 
only  inhabited"  (page  4,  Modern 
Library  Edition);  at  her  left  were 
"clear  panes  of  glass,  protecting,  but 
not  separating  me  from  the  drear 
November  day." 

After  the  evil  winter  of  typhoid, 
cold,  and  starvation  at  Lowood 
School,  Jane  embodies  her  own 
sense  of  release  in  her  description 
of  the  grounds: 

And  now  vegetation  matured  with 
vigour;  Lowood  shook  loose  its  tresses;  it 



became  all  green,  all  flowery;  its  great  elm, 
ash,  and  oak  skeletons  were  restored  to 
majestic  life  .  .  .  (page  79). 

The  restoration  of  nature's  skele- 
tons to  life  symbolizes  the  restora- 
tion of  the  almost  dead  human 
skeletons  within  the  school  who 
now  bloomed  with  nature. 

Just  as  Jane's  hopes  rose  at  the 
prospect  of  a  new  life  at  Thornfield 
Hall,  so  the  rising  moon  which  first 
revealed  Rochester  to  her  was 

.  .  .  pale  yet  as  a  cloud,  but  brightening 
momently:  [from  the  nearby  town]  in  the 
absolute  hush  I  could  hear  plainly  its  thin 
murmurs  of  life.  My  ear  too  felt  the 
flow  of  currents;  in  what  dales  and  depths 
I  could  not  tell.  .  .  .  That  evening  calm 
betrayed  ahke  the  tinkle  of  the  nearest 
streams,  the  sough  of  the  most  remote 
(page  119). 

Even  so,  Jane  herself  was  pale  but 
brightening;  within  herself  were 
deep  currents,  as  well  as  the  tinkle 
of  streams  near  and  distant.  How 
better  could  she  create  a  mood  than 
by  letting  nature  mirror  her  own? 

Miss  Bronte  uses  the  same  device 
to  characterize  Rochester  when, 
months  later,  he  meets  Jane  in  the 
garden  for  one  of  their  brilliant 
conversations.  Intoxicated  by  Jane's 
courage,  sharp  mind,  and  quick  wit, 
he  contemplates  the  view  of  Thorn- 
field  Hall: 

I  like  this  day:  I  like  that  sky  of  steel; 
I  like  the  sternness  and  stillness  of  the 
world  under  this  frost.  I  like  Thornfield; 
its  antiquity  ...  its  grey  facade,  and  Hnes 
of  dark  windows  reflecting  that  metal 
welkin:  and  yet  how  long  have  I  abhorred 
the  very  thought  of  it;  shunned  it  like  a 
great  plague-house  .  .  .  (page  152). 

To  the  scene  he  imparts  his  own 
mood  and  qualities;  even  as  his 
character  is  one  of  steel  hardness,  so 
does  he  admire  the  still,  stern  quali- 
ties of  steelness  about  him;  the  dark 

windows  of  Thornfield,  themselves 
symbolizing  the  remorse  and  despair 
he  had  known  within  its  walls. 

Miss  Bronte  employs  this  de- 
vice constantly.  For  example, 
Jane's  description  of  her  welcome 
back  to  Thornfield  after  she  had  at- 
tended her  aunt's  funeral  services 
tells  the  great  need  within  Jane 
for  human  love  and  affection.  When 
Jane  is  welcomed  with  smiles  and 
enthusiasm  by  her  fellow  employ- 
ees, she  comments  that  'There  is 
no  happiness  like  that  of  being 
loved  by  your  fellow  creatures,  and 
feeling  that  your  presence  is  an  ad- 
dition of  their  comfort"  (page  266). 
She  then  tells  how,  sitting  together 
with  her  friends  in  the  warm  kitch- 
en, "a  sense  of  mutual  affection 
seemed  to  surround  us  with  a  ring 
of  golden  peace"  (page  266).  In 
this  same  blissful  mood  she  begins 
the  next  chapter:  '\  .  .  It  was  as  if 
a  band  of  Italian  days  had  come 
from  the  South,  like  a  flock  of  glori- 
ous passenger  birds"  (page  267). 

The  most  important  symbol  in 
the  novel  is  the  magnificent  chest- 
nut tree  at  Thornfield,  split  in  two 
by  a  violent  storm  the  night  after 
Jane  agrees  to  marry  Rochester. 
This  tearing  asunder  of  the  most 
stalwart,  ageless  object  at  Thorn- 
field predicts  not  only  the  cleavage 
between  the  present  Rochester  and 
the  one  soon  to  be  revealed,  but  it 
also  represents  two  temptations 
within  Jane,  both  of  which  she  over- 
comes. The  first  temptation,  is  to 
give  herself  headlong  to  Rochester 
and  run  away  in  defiance  of  all  self- 
respect  and  moral  law,  and  the  sec- 
ond, is  to  deny  completely  her  need 
for  a  shared,  creative  love,  and  mar- 
ry St.  John  Rivers,  the  cold,  ambi- 



tious  missionary  who  is  so  intent  on 
other  worldly  values  that  he  disre- 
gards, even  kills  the  spirit  of  Jane 
and  others  near  him. 

The  power  of  Miss  Bronte's  style 
is  best  revealed  in  the  conversations 
between  Jane  and  Rochester,  but 
these  are  too  long  to  quote  here. 
Impassioned,  fiery,  terse,  subtle, 
these  interchanges  not  only  reveal 
to  each  participant  the  formidable 
powers  and  character  of  the  other; 
these  communions  of  intellect  and 
spirit  also  make  possible  the  mutual 
respect  which  rapidly  grows  into  a 
consuming,  mature  love. 


Charlotte  Bronte  (and  therefore 
Jane  Eyre)  rebelled  against  living 
the  anonymous  life  of  the  average 
Victorian  woman— sedentary,  pas- 
sive, inconsequential  —  surrounded 
by  the  dominance  and  creative  vigor 
of  a  masculine  world.  Quite  justly 
Jane  Eyre  has  been  defined  as  one 
of  the  first  modern  women.  Rather 
than  bow  to  the  conventional  view 
that  women  are  somehow  a  lesser 
species  of  humanity,  Jane  demands 
the  right  to  be  a  free,  mature  per- 
son, to  own  her  soul  and  to  be  al- 
lowed to  express  her  entire  person- 
ality and  integrity  in  her  life-quest 
for  self-realization.  For  Jane  the 
kernel  of  life  is  human  love,  but 
true  love  and  understanding  can  en- 
dure only  when  the  individuality 
and  integrity  of  both  partners  is 
not  only  recognized,  but  encouraged 
to  fullest  growth  within  the  mar- 
riage relationship. 

The  novel  tells  how  the  maturing 
Jane  Eyre  succeeds  in  freeing  her- 
self from  ''a  conventionality  which 
is  not  morality''  and  a  "self-right- 

eousness which  is  not  religion." 
Her  indomitable  spirit  rises  above 
the  hatred  and  jealousy  of  Mrs. 
Reed,  the  bigoted  hypocrisy  of 
Reverend  Brocklehurst,  the  me- 
diocre dullness  of  Mrs.  Fairfax,  the 
affected  snobbery  of  the  Ingrams, 
the  withering  religious  zeal  of  Eliza, 
the  shallow  selfishness  of  Georgiana, 
and  the  ascetic  denial  of  self  and 
human  affection  in  the  Reverend  St. 
John  Rivers. 

Jane's  supreme  test  comes  when, 
finally,  she  learns  that  her  love  for 
Rochester  is  returned,  but  that  she 
must  leave  him  at  once.  Earlier, 
disguised  as  a  gypsy,  Rochester  had 
shrewdly  and  accurately  defined  her 
character  as  one  who  says: 

I  can  live  alone,  if  self-respect  and  cir- 
cumstances require  me  so  to  do.  I  need 
not  sell  my  soul  to  buy  bliss.  I  have  an 
inward  treasure,  born  with  me,  which 
can  keep  me  alive  if  all  extraneous  de- 
lights should  be  withheld  ....  Reason 
sits  firm  and  holds  the  reins,  and  she  will 
not  let  the  feelings  burst  away  and  hurry 
her  to  wild  chasms  ....   (pp.  216-217). 

In  this  hour  of  trial,  when  almost 
maddened  by  the  thought  of  losing 
her,  Rochester  begs  Jane  to  run 
away  with  him  to  France,  he  asks 
her,  "Who  in  the  world  cares  for 
you.^  or  who  will  be  injured  by  what 
you  do?" 

Jane  replies: 

I  care  for  myself.  The  more  solitary, 
the  more  friendless,  the  more  unsustained 
I  am,  the  more  I  will  respect  myself.  I 
will  keep  the  law  given  by  God;  sanctioned 
by  man  ....  Laws  and  principles  are 
not  for  the  times  when  there  is  no  tempta- 
tion: they  are  for  such  moments  as  this, 
when  body  and  soul  rise  in  mutiny  against 
their  rigour;  stringent  are  they;  inviolate 
they  shall  be  ...  .  Preconceived  opinions, 
foregone  determinations,  are  all  I  have  at 
this  hour  to  stand  by:  there  I  plant  my 
foot  (page  344). 



Realizing  the  firmness  of  her  re- 
solve, Rochester  confesses  defeat  be- 
fore this  ''resolute,  wild,  free  thing 
defying  me,  with  more  than  cour- 
age— with  a  stern  triumph"    (page 


And  thus  Jane,  at  the  period  of 

most  tense  emotional  strain,  main- 
tains her  spiritual  and  moral  integ- 
rity. When  finally  she  does  come 
to  the  invalid  Rochester  to  offer 
herself  as  his  future  wife  and  com- 
panion, she  can  offer  a  complete, 
whole  woman,  not  a  physical  entity 
only,  or  one  soul-scarred  by  remorse 
—remorse  which  had  so  nearly  de- 
stroyed the  soul  of  her  beloved 
Rochester  before  she  restored  him. 
Throughout,  Jane  Eyre  is  pitched 
in  a  higher  key  than  many  novels. 

Its  intensity  seldom  lessens;  its  pow- 
er comes  from  the  moral  and  emo- 
tional struggles  within,  rather  than 
between,  characters.  The  imaginary 
reality  created  within  its  pages  is 
enduring,  since  the  values  upon 
which  it  is  built  are  those  of  cour- 
age, individual  freedom,  integrity, 
and  love.  Indeed  Jane  Eyre  is  a 
great  experience. 

Questions  for  Discussion 

1.  Which  characteristic  of  Jane  Eyre  is 
most  appeahng  to  you?  Discuss. 

2.  Why  is  a  knowledge  of  Charlotte 
Bronte's  personal  life  so  vital  a  preliminary 
to  reading  Jane  Eyre.^ 

3.  What  is  Miss  Bronte's  great  con- 
tribution to  English  fiction? 

4.  Discuss  the  justice  of  calling  Jane 
Evre  "the  first  modern  woman." 

Social  Science — The  Constitution 
of  the  United  States 

Lesson  7— The  Great  Compromises  of  the  Constitution 
and  the  Fight  for  Ratification 

Elder  Albert  R.  Bowen 

For  Tuesday,  May  25,  1954 

Objective:  To  become  familiar  with  the  great  issues  of  the  Constitutional  Con- 
vention and  how  those  issues  were  compromised,  and  to  observe  the  devices  used  to 
create  "checks  and  balances"  as  a  means  of  protecting  the  fundamental  freedom  of 
the  individual.  Also  to  point  out  that  the  Constitution  was  one  of  the  most  thorough- 
ly studied  and  debated  documents  ever  presented  to  a  nation  for  adoption. 

New  Framework  of  Government 
OEFERENCE  has  already  been 
made  to  the  fact  that  the  Con- 
stitutional Convention,  held  at  Phil- 
adelphia, was  called  for  the  osten- 
sible purpose  of  revising  and 
strengthening  the  Articles  of  Con- 
federation. This  was  the  recom- 
mendation of  the  Annapolis  Con- 
vention (see  lesson  5)  in  addressing 
Congress   with    a   petition    to   call 

such  a  convention.  In  the  minds 
of  many  of  the  delegates,  ideas  had 
been  germinating  for  a  long  time 
regarding  concrete  steps  which 
would  have  to  be  taken  to  remake 
the  National  Government. 

James  Madison  was  the  leader  in 
this  regard.  He  was  twenty  years 
younger  than  Washington,  but  en- 
joyed the  support  and  friendship  of 



that  great  man.  Madison  was  a  stu- 
dent of  government  and  had  had 
many  years  of  experience  in  govern- 
ment in  his  native  State  of  Virginia. 
He  it  was  who  was  to  prove  to  be 
chief  architect  of  the  Constitution. 
Madison  and  his  friends  came  to 
the  Convention  determined  to  do 
anything  necessary  to  draft  a  frame- 
work of  government  which  would 
be  workable.  Furthermore,  they 
came  prepared  to  offer  a  plan  to  the 

The  debates  upon  the  so-called 
Virginia  resolutions  very  soon  made 
it  apparent  that  much  more  than  a 
revision  of  the  existing  government 
was  required,  and  the  delegates  be- 
gan the  consideration  of  forming  a 
new  government.  Gone  forever 
was  any  idea  of  revision  of  the 
Articles  of  Confederation. 

Three  Basic  Difieiences 

All  of  the  delegates  subscribed  to 
the  view  that  a  stronger  national 
union  should  be  set  up.  The  ques- 
tion was  the  manner  and  the  form 
in  which  this  should  be  accom- 
plished. There  were  three  basic  dif- 
ficulties which  had  to  be  overcome 
and  finally  compromised.  The  Rist 
was  the  fear  of  the  smaller  states  of 
being  swallowed  up  and  submerged 
by  the  larger,  more  powerful  states. 
The  second  involved  the  matter  of 
slavery,  and  the  thiidy  fear  of  na- 
tional taxing  power. 

Question  of  Representation 

The  questions  of  national  repre- 
sentation and  taxing  power  were,  by 
far,  the  most  troublesome  of  the 
three.  The  larger  and  more  power- 
ful states,  such  as  Massachusetts, 
Pennsylvania,  and  Virginia,  were 
staunch    advocates    in    favor   of   a 

strong  national  government  which 
would  have  veto  power  over  the 
laws  of  the  individual  states  where 
state  laws  should  be  in  conflict  with 
laws  passed  by  Congress.  They  also 
wanted  representation  in  Congress 
determined  on  the  basis  of  popula- 

On  the  other  hand,  the  small 
states  wanted  to  be  protected  from 
the  power  of  the  large  states,  whose 
representatives  in  Congress  would 
be  able  to  out-vote  them  on  any 
basis  of  proportional  representation. 

It  should  be  remembered  that 
under  the  Confederation  the  states 
had  equal  voting  power  in  Congress. 
The  problem  was  how  to  reconcile 
the  principle  of  representation  in 
that  body.  The  small  states  were 
fearful  that  the  large  states  would 
always  dominate  the  national  gov- 
ernment and  thus  exclude  them 
for  all  practical  purposes,  from  any 
voice  therein.  This  conflict  of  in- 
terest between  the  states  was  the 
greatest  obstacle  of  all.  Each  side 
stated  its  unalterable  determination 
never  to  yield. 

The  Connecticut  Compiomise 

Nevertheless,  this  great  difficulty 
was  solved  by  the  device  known  as 
the  Connecticut  Compromise.  Un- 
der the  Connecticut  plan,  which 
was  finally  adopted,  the  legislative 
branch  was  divided  into  two  houses. 
The  lower  house  composed  of  pop- 
ular representatives  elected  upon 
the  basis  of  population  was  to  origi- 
nate all  revenue  bills.  On  the  oth- 
er hand,  the  small  states  were  to 
have  equal  representation  in  the  up- 
per house,  or  Senate,  which  was  to 
be  chosen  by  the  legislatures  of  each 



It  was  agreed  that  the  Senate 
should  have  the  power  to  propose 
amendments  to  the  revenue  bills, 
even  though  it  could  not  originate 
them.  The  smaller  states  were  mol- 
lified because  the  principal  of  equal 
representation  had  been  preserved 
in  the  Senate,  in  which  place  they 
would  be  able  to  make  their  voices 
heard  on  all  national  issues.  By 
conceding  equal  representation  to 
the  small  states  in  the  Senate,  the 
larger  states  were  given  a  consider- 
able degree  of  control  and  voice  in 
the  matter  of  raising  revenues, 
which  would  naturally  fall  more 
heavily  upon  them,  because  taxes, 
like  representation  in  the  House  of 
Representatives,  would  be  based  up- 
on population.  The  solution  of  this 
great  problem  required,  by  far,  the 
most  time  consumed  in  drafting  the 
Constitution.  Once  it  was  solved 
and  agreed  upon,  a  solid  foundation 
for  agreement  on  all  other  questions 
in  dispute  was  laid,  and  upon  this 
great  compromise  the  success  of  the 
Convention  became  solidly  assured. 

Piohlems  Presented  hy  Shveiy 

On  the  issue  of  slavery,  of  course, 
the  dispute  was  between  the  slave- 
holding  and  non  -  slave  -  holding 
states.  This  dispute  did  not  con- 
cern the  abolition  of  slavery,  as 
some  have  erroneously  supposed.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  slavery  had  become 
a  well-accepted  social  institution  in 
America.  There  was,  of  course, 
some  sentiment  against  it,  but  not 
to  the  point  of  becoming  a  move- 
ment which  threatened  its  exist- 
ence. In  general,  the  non-slave- 
holding  states  were,  in  principle, 
against  any  further  importation  of 
slaves.    Maryland  and  Virginia  were 

not  greatly  concerned  about  having 
the  slave  population  increased  be- 
cause they  were  well  supplied.  In 
the  Carolinas  and  Georgia,  however, 
the  need  for  slaves  had  not  been 
satisfied,  and  these  states  were  anx- 
ious to  have  the  trade  continue. 

The  next  serious  issue  related  to 
slavery  was  on  the  question  of 
whether  the  slaves  should  be  count- 
ed as  part  of  the  population  in  de- 
termining the  matter  of  representa- 
tion in  Congress.  The  decision 
having  already  been  made  that  pop- 
ulation should  determine  represen- 
tation in  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives, how  then  should  these  slaves 
be  regarded?  Should  they  be  count- 
ed as  property  or  as  persons?  The 
slave-holding  states,  in  addition  to 
not  wanting  the  importation  of 
slaves  interfered  with,  wanted  the 
slaves  to  be  enumerated  as  part  of 
the  population  for  determining  rep- 
resentation in  the  lower  house  of 
Congress.  This  issue  was  finally 
compromised  by  including  three- 
fifths  of  the  slaves  ('The  ratio  rec- 
ommended by  Congress  in  their 
resolutions  of  April  18,  1783,"  Far- 
rand,  The  Fathers  of  the  Constitu- 
tion, page  122)  for  determining  the 
basis  for  congressional  representa- 
tion, and  by  specifically  providing 
that  the  importation  of  slaves  into 
the  United  States  would  not  be  in- 
terfered with  for  twenty  years. 

The  non-slave-holding  states  were 
the  ones  in  which  most  of  the  com- 
mercial and  manufacturing  interests 
were  concentrated.  They  wanted  the 
National  Government  to  exercise 
broad  powers  over  commerce  be- 
tween the  states  and  foreign  coun- 
tries and  to  control  navigation. 
Massachusetts  and  New  York  had 



already  developed  substantial  ship- 
ping interests  and  American  ships, 
mainly  from  these  states,  were 
already  to  be  found  on  every  ocean. 
If  the  maritime  states  could  have 
their  way,  the  National  Govern- 
ment would  be  given  powers  which 
would  foster  and  develop  this  grow- 
ing and  flourishing  trade. 

In  exchange  for  the  concession  to 
the  slave-holding  states  on  slavery, 
they,  in  turn,  agreed  to  the  granting 
of  broad  power  to  the  National 
Government  over  commerce  and 

Question  oi  National  Taxing  Power 

The  third  great  matter  for  con- 
stitutional debate  was  the  national 
taxing  power.  This  debate  also  end- 
ed in  a  compromise.  The  delegates 
divided  generally  according  to  their 
sectional  interests  and  also  accord- 
ing to  the  character  of  their  par- 
ticular economies.  States  with  a  di- 
versified economy  wanted  the  na- 
tional government  to  raise  revenues 
by  taxing  the  export  and  import  of 
goods.  The  states  in  which  the 
economy  was  based  upon  the  rais- 
ing of  a  single  crop,  or  perhaps  two 
or  three  crops  of  agricultural  prod- 
ucts, were  fearful  of  any  power  in 
the  hands  of  the  National  Govern- 
ment which  would  permit  the  tax- 
ation of  exports. 

The  Southern  States  were  largely 
agricultural,  one-crop  states,  natural- 
ly fearful  of  any  taxes  which  might 
be  levied  upon  the  export  in  foreign 
trade  of  the  principal  source  of 
their  wealth.  An  economy  based 
upon  such  a  narrow  base  as  cotton 
or  tobacco  could  be  easily  bankrupt- 
ed and  ruined  by  an  excessive  export 

tax.  It  was  finally  agreed  that  Con- 
gress should  have  power  to  tax  im- 
ports, but  taxes  on  exports  were  ex- 
pressly forbidden. 

Executive  Department 

There  were  many  other  questions 
debated  in  the  Convention  upon 
which  time  could  be  spent  to  em- 
phasize the  monumental  task  which 
the  Constitutional  Convention  as- 
sumed in  framing  the  Constitution. 
One  of  the  most  interesting  ques- 
tions was  that  of  the  executive. 
When  the  Convention  opened,  the 
delegates  had  no  clear  idea  of  the 
kind  of  executive  they  would  set  up. 
They  hit  upon  the  unique  device 
of  the  presidency.  This  was  certain- 
ly an  innovation  in  government. 
The  office  was  unknown  in  the 
world.  There  had  never  been  a 
chief  of  state  with  such  a  title.  At 
first  a  multiple  executive  was  de- 
bated, but  this  idea  was  finally  dis- 
carded in  favor  of  the  single  head  of 
the  state.  The  executive  was  given 
no  power  to  make  laws,  only  to  ex- 
ecute or  carry  them  out.  He  was 
given  power  to  veto  legislation 
passed  by  Congress,  but  his  veto 
could  be  overridden  by  a  two-thirds 
majority  in  both  houses  of  Con- 
gress. It  was  also  provided  that  a 
president  could  be  removed  by  im- 
peachment. He  was  given  power 
in  foreign  affairs  to  negotiate  trea- 
ties which  would  be  ratified  with 
the  advice  and  consent  of  two-thirds 
of  the  senators  present  voting  to 
ratify.  He  could  also  appoint  judg- 
es and  ambassadors.  The  appoint- 
ment of  judges  was  to  be  for  life 
during  good  behavior,  so  while  the 
president  could  name  the  judges, 
he  was  powerless  to  remove  them. 



Judicial  Department 

The  Constitution  made  provision 
for  a  judiciary  consisting  of  a  Su- 
preme Court  and  such  inferior 
courts  as  Congress  should  create. 
The  legislative  branch,  therefore, 
could  provide  for  courts  and  judges 
and  fix  their  salaries.  The  appoint- 
ments of  judges  would,  however,  be 
made  by  the  executive  with  the  con- 
currence of  the  Senate.  Once 
named,  salaries  of  judges  at  the  time 
of  their  appointment  could  not  be 
cut  off  or  decreased  in  their  amount, 
and  finally,  they  could  only  be  re- 
moved by  the  process  of  impeach- 
ment. The  judicial  system  set  up 
mider  the  Constitution  was  to  have 
far-reaching  effects  upon  the  Ameri- 
can Government.  It  was  not  gen- 
erally realized  at  the  time  that  the 
courts  would  exercise  any  veto  pow- 
er over  the  President  or  Congress. 
However,  that  is  exactly  the  way  in 
which  the  judicial  system  has 
worked,  because  the  courts  may  de- 
clare the  acts  of  Congress  uncon- 
stitutional and  void,  and  may  re- 
strain the  executive  from  arbitrary 
or  unlawful  exercise  of  power  over 
the  people. 

Government  of  "Checks  and 

There  were  naturally  many  other 
problems  which  had  to  be  resolved, 
for  instance,  the  terms  of  office  of 
the  members  of  Congress,  the  term 
of  office  of  the  President,  the  ad- 
mission of  new  states  into  the 
Union,  and  the  machinery  of 
amendment  and  many  other  neces- 
sary parts  of  the  governmental  ma- 
chinery which  had  to  be  devised. 
The  result  was  to  make  the  United 
States  a  government  of  the  people. 


.  Chapei    Echoes— Peery    75 

Chapel    Musing— Peery    .85 

Concert  Transcriptions  of  Favorite 
Hymns— Kohlmann    85 

.   Famous  Sacred   Songs— Peery  1,25 

Lorenz's  Church  Piano  Classics  1.10 

.   Lorenz's  Church  Pianist  Volumes 
1,  2,  3 Each   1.10 

Peery's  Piano  Voluntaries  1.25 

.   Piano   Hymn  Voluntaries— Lorenz  1.10 

.  Sacred  Piano  Album— Gahm  1.25 

.  Sunday  Piano  Music— Presser  1.00 


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with  ''checks  and  balances"  to  in- 
sure that  no  one  branch  of  the  gov- 
ernment would  dominate  the  other 
two.  The  states  could  not  be 
coerced  by  the  Federal  Government, 
but  the  people  of  the  states  were 
made  subject  to  its  laws.  Thus,  the 
people  of  the  United  States  live 
under  a  dual  system— the  state  gov- 
ernment and  the  Federal— and  are 
subject  to  the  laws  of  both. 

Signing  oi  Constitution 

Because  some  of  the  delegates  re- 
fused to  sign  the  Constitution, 
Gouverneur  Morris  devised  a  form 
which  would  give  the  Constitution 
the  appearance  of  being  unanimous- 
ly adopted.  This  was  accomplished 
by  writing  at  the  very  end.  ''Done 
in  convention  by  the  unanimous 
consent  of  the  states  present."  In 
order  to  overcome  any  appearance 
of  departure  from  authority  given 
to  the  convention,  which  had  been 
instructed  to  revise  the  Articles  of 
Confederation,  the  convention  rec- 
ommended to  Congress  that  the 
Constitution  be  submitted  to  con- 
ventions of  delegates  chosen  in  each 
state  by  the  people  thereof.  This 
was  for  accomplishing  the  indirect 
ratification  of  the  Constitution  by 
the  people.  It  was  not  known  if  a 
sufficient  number  of  the  state  legis- 
latures could  be  prevailed  upon  to 
accept  the  Constitution,  and  there- 
fore the  opening  phrase  of  the  Con- 
stitution, was  made  to  read:  "We, 
the  people  of  the  United  States." 

Ratification  by  States 

The  Second  Continental  Con- 
gress accepted  the  original  draft 
submitted  by  the  Constitutional 
Convention  without  much  enthus- 

iasm, and  submitted  it  to  the  states 
for  ratification  without  one  word  of 
approval  or  disapproval.  The  Con- 
stitution was  to  go  into  effect  when 
ratified  by  nine  states. 

The  contest  over  adoption  was  to 
prove  long  and  difficult.  Delaware 
acted  first  and  ratified  December  7, 

1787.  Pennsylvania  ratified  next 
on  December  12,  1787;  New  Jersey, 
December  18,  1787;  Georgia,  Janu- 
ary 2,  1788;  Connecticut,  January 
9,  1788;  Massachusetts,  February  6, 
1788;  Maryland,  April  26,  1788; 
South  Carolina,  May  28,  1788;  New 
Hampshire,  June  21,  1788.  In  Dela- 
ware, Georgia,  and  New  Jersey,  rati- 
fication was  unanimous.  In  Con- 
necticut, Pennsylvania,  Maryland, 
and  South  Carolina,  ratification  was 
by  a  good  majority  of  the  conven- 
tion delegates,  and  in  Massachusetts 
and  New  Hampshire,  by  slim  ma- 
jorities. Nine  states  had  now  rati- 
fied, but  Virginia  and  New  York 
had  not  acted.  Without  these  two 
very  important  states,  the  Union 
could  not  hope  to  be  a  success. 
Finally,  after  a  long  and  hotly  con- 
tested fight,  Virginia  ratified  on 
June  25,  1788.  This  left  New  York, 
North  Carolina,  and  Rhode  Island 
still  stubbornly  outside  the  Union. 

In  New  York,  under  the  brilliant 
leadership  of  Alexander  Hamilton, 
ratification  was  achieved  on  July  26, 

1788.  The  Constitution  did  not 
provide  the  kind  of  government 
which  Hamilton  would  have  pre- 
ferred. He  was  by  nature  an  aristo- 
crat. But  he  set  aside  his  own 
personal  views  and  worked  tirelessly 
for  ratification.  It  was  under  his 
superb  leadership  that  those  essays 
on  the  Constitution,  which  have 
come  to  be  known  as  The  Federal- 



isty  were  published.  Fifty  of  them 
were  written  by  Hamilton,  thirty  by 
Madison,  and  about  five  by  Jay. 
These  essays  are  regarded  to  this 
day  as  the  most  important  commen- 
tary on  the  Constitution  ever  writ- 
ten, and  they  likewise  comprise 
what  is  looked  upon  as  one  of 
America's  greatest  books. 

After  Congress  passed  a  revenue 
act  making  importation  of  goods 
from  Rhode  Island  and  North  Caro- 
lina taxable.  North  Carolina  ratified 
in  haste  on  November  21,  1789. 
Rhode  Island  finally  capitulated  on 
May  29,  1790. 

It  must  be  stated  that  ratification 
could  never  have  become  complet- 
ed in  such  states  as  Virginia  and 
Massachusetts  without  the  assur- 
ance that  certain  amendments 
would  be  added  to  the  Constitution 
as  guaranties  to  individual  liberty. 
Nearly  all  of  the  state  constitutions 
had  ''bills  of  rights"  appended  to  or 
as  a  part  of  them.  They  were  state- 
ments of  principle  going  back  to 
the  days  of  Magna  Charta  and  the 
English  Bill  of  Rights,  which  were 
so  precious  in  the  eyes  of  liberty- 
loving  Americans.  They  had  been 
the  principles  fought  for  in  the 
Revolution.  Who  is  to  say  that  the 
delay  over  ratification  was  not  a 
beneficent  act  of  Providence  to  in- 
sure that  those  precious  freedoms 
would  receive  recognition  and  be- 
come a  part  of  our  great  charter  of 
liberty,  known  as  the  Bill  of  Rights, 
the  first  ten  amendments  to  the 

Election  oi  Washington 
as  First  President 

The  Union  was  now  complete 
under  the  ''new  roof."  In  the  fall  of 


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1788  the  Congress  of  the  Confed- 
eration made  preparations  to  go  out 
of  existence  by  voting  for  presiden- 
tial electors  to  be  chosen  by  election 
in  January  1789,  and  by  making 
New  York  the  seat  of  the  new  gov- 
ernment until  other  arrangements 
could  be  made.  The  elections  were 
held.  Washington  was  elected  and 
installed  in  office.  He  it  was  who 
was  the  obvious  choice  of  all.  Even 
during  the  debates  in  the  Conven- 
tion, and  in  conversation,  indica- 
tions to  this  effect  were  apparent. 
When  he  became  president,  Wash- 
ington is  said  to  have  expressed 
preference  for  this  title:  ''His  High 
Mightiness,  the  President  of  the 
United  States  and  Protector  of  their 

The  inauguration  of  Washington 
marked  the  opening  of  a  new  era  in 


Farrand,  Max:  The  Fathers  of  the  Con- 
stitution, Yale  University  Press,  1921. 

Smith,  Joseph  Fielding:  The  Piogiess 
oi  Man,  pp.  295-299. 

Questions  for  Discussion 

1.  What  were  the  great  compromises 
of  the  Constitution? 

2.  What  three  branches  of  government 
are  provided  for  under  the  Constitution? 

3.  Describe  briefly  how  the  "checks 
and  balances"  of  the  American  Constitu- 
tion operate  to  prevent  one  branch  of  the 
government  from  dominating  the  other 
branches  of  government. 

4.  Describe  the  manner  in  which  the 
Constitution  was  presented  by  the  Con- 
vention to  Congress  and  the  people,  and 
by  whom  it  was  ratified. 

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You'll  need  a  21/2  lt>-  chicken,  cut  into  pieces,  to  serve  four.  Pour  IV2  cups  Sego 
Evaporated  Milk  into  a  bowl  and  dip  each  piece  of  chicken  into  it.  Save  the 
milk  that's  left  for  gravy.    There  should  be  1  cup;  if  not,  add  more  milk. 

Roll  each  piece  of  chicken  in  a  mixture  of  V^  cup  flour,  l'/^  teaspoons  salt,  and 
Vs   teaspoon   pepper. 

Brown  chicken  slowly  in  a  skillet  in  Va  inch  hot  fat  about  30  minutes,  or  until 
drumstick   is   tender   when   pierced   with    a    fork. 

Remove  chicken  (keep  hot).  Drain  fat  from  skillet,  then  put  2  tablespoons  fat 
back  into  skillet.  Mix  in  2  tablespoons  flour,  %  teaspoon  salt,  few  grains  pepper. 
Stir  in   1  cup  water.    Boil  and  stir  for  two  minutes. 

Stir  in  the  1  cup  of  saved  milk  and  heat  till  steaming  hot,  but  do  not  boil.  Serve 
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Meal  That  Makes  Lips  Smack! 

Crisp,  golden-brown  chicken  that's  tender  clear 
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Directions  Ingredients  for  4 

Turn  on  oven  and  set  at  350  (moderate). 
Grease  well  a  baking  dish  holding  about  6  cups. 
Boil  until  tender,    fl  cup  elbow  MACARONI 
then  drain  j    in  6  cups  boiling  WATER 

(do  not  rinse)-...  [  and  2  teasp.  SALT 

Mix  in  a  I  or 
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Add  half  of. 

1  can  canned  Cream  of 

Vi  cup  SEGO  Evaporated 

V4  cup  finely  cut 


1  cup  grated  American 

c-    •  [2  cups  (1-lb.  can) 

Stir  m  macaroni       1     ^    ^     jcaix/tAivt 
j  <   dramed  SALMON, 

[  broken  into  pieces 

Pour  into  greased  baking  dish.  Sprinkle  rest  of 
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□  Hammond's  Alios 

Q  The  Lady  of 

□  Meta  Given's  Enty. 
(lopedia  of  Cooking 



cJhe  [Retief  Societi/ — Jr    it^orid-Vlyiae  Sisterhood 

Phyllis  Hodgson  Holbiook 

In  every  far-flung  border  land 
Where  women  work  and  pray 
And  strive  to  solve  the  problems  of 
A  troubled  v/orld  today, 
A  new  and  everlasting  hope 
Is  borne  to  each  who  heeds; 
A  wondrous  plan  transcends  all  time 
And  solves  our  human  needs; 
And  then  the  hand  of  sisterhood 
Extends  through  time  and  space 
To  carry  love  and  help  and  faith 
Within  its  wide  embrace. 

A  universal  sisterhood, 

Divinely  shaped  and  planned, 

Installed  on  earth  to  function,  by 

A  mighty  Prophet's  hand; 

To  glorify  the  dignity 

By  labor  and  by  worth 

Of  womanhood  and  motherhood. 

And  woman's  place  on  earth. 

For,  though  she  only  shares  the  grace 

The  Priesthood's  gifts  afford, 

A  woman  was  the  first  to  see 

The  resurrected  Lord! 

As  brooklets  spread  the  river's  breadth. 

As  rivers  join  the  sea, 

So  every  land  contributes  to 

The  great  Society. 

The  Cover:   'The  Singing  Sands  of  Alamosa,  Colorado,  at  the  base  of  the  Sangre 

de  Cristo  Mountains 
Photograph  by  Josef  Muench 
Frontispiece:  Pussywillows  and  Plum  Blossoms 

Photograph  by  Don  Knight 
Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

CJrom    I  Lear  and  CJar 

I  wish  1  could  convey  to  each  of  you 
how  much  the  Magazine  means  to  our 
small  group  here.  We  are  all  growing 
from  the  messages  and  inspiration  we  re 
ceive  when  reading  of  our  sisters  in  the 
Church  and  their  activities. 
— Mayona  Grinder 

Kindley  Air  Force  Base 

It  is  wonderful  that  you  are  making  it 
possible  for  us  to  have  the  privilege  of 
finding  the  names  of  our  loved  ones  in 
The  Relief  Society  Magazine.  In  looking 
through  the  birthday  section  of  the  Wom- 
an's Sphere  department,  I  became  so 
thrilled  to  see  the  name  of  a  woman  who 
was  my  nearest  neighbor  when  we  were 
children  together.  Now,  I  am  wondering 
if  she  would  get  the  same  thrill  as  I  did 
when  she  sees  my  name  there.  How  love- 
ly the  contents  of  the  December  Maga- 

— Mrs.  Clara  T.  Samuels 
449  West  Broadmoor 
San  Leandro,  California 

What  wonderful  things  I  found  in  the 
October  1953  issue  of  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine.  "Portraits  of  the  Signers  of  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States"  is  one 
of  the  most  interesting  and  educational 
articles  I  have  read  in  a  long  time.  I  also 
enjoyed  "The  Boyhood  of  President 
McKay."  All  of  the  poems  and  stories 
were  interesting,  but  I  especially  liked 
"Grandpa  As  a  Magician"  by  Mable  Law 
Atkinson,  Sister  Atkinson  is  a  gifted,  ver- 
satile writer.  I  always  enjoy  everything 
she  writes. 

— Sylvia  Probst  Young 
Midvale,  Utah 

Please  extend  my  congratulations  to 
Lizabeth  Wall  Madsen  for  having  written 
the  beautiful  lines  ("Wings  Over  the 
West")  which  won  the  first  prize  in  the 
Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest.  There  is 
not  a  line  of  Mrs.  Madsen's  poem  that 
lacks  poetic  essence  in  my  estimation. 
— Grace  I.  Frost 

Provo,  Utah 

May  I  say  a  few  words  concerning  the 
joy  and  inspiration  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine  brings  to  all  Latter-day  Saint 
women  who  live  in  the  mission  fields — 
particularly  those,  who,  like  myself,  find 
themselves  living  in  places  where  organ- 
ized Relief  Societies  do  not  exist.  A  note 
of  thanks  for  the  small,  newly  organized 
Sunday  School  we  have  here. 

— Mildred  Garrett  Enos 
Chillicothe,  Ohio 

The  Magazine  continues  to  be  excellent 
in  every  way.  I  have  most  thoroughly  en- 
joyed Mrs.  Morrell's  articles  on  the  life  of 
President  McKay  (September,  October, 
November,  and  December  1953). 
— Mabel  Jones  Gabbott 
Bountiful,  Utah 

We  think  The  Relief  Society  Magn/jnc 
is  the  best  magazine  anywhere,  and  it  is 
getting  better  all  the  time. 

— Mrs.  Margaret  A.  Anderson 

— and  Mrs.  lone  J.  Anderson 

Richmond,  Utah 

On  the  eve  of  our  lesson  tomorrow  on 
David  CoppeiReld,  I  am  brimming  with 
anticipation  to  hear  Sister  Mabel  Preston 
give  it,  and  I  trust  no  member  misses  it. 
for  Briant  S.  Jacobs  has  portrayed  it  as 
Dickens  would  smile  his  approval.  When 
I  had  read  the  usual  amount  of  the  les- 
sons, and  turned  the  page  and  saw  two 
full  pages  more,  I  said,  "What  a  feast!" 
And  I  have  really  laughed  and  heartily 
approved  every  word.  I  trust  no  Relief 
Society  woman  fails  to  read  it  herself.  I 
had  forgotten  much  I  had  read  years  ago. 
I  wish  we  could  love  the  good  qualities  in 
people,  all  people,  and  not  rebuke  them 
for  failures.  Thanks,  thanks.  Brother 
Jacobs  for  making  every  line  pregnant  with 
needful  truths.  Certainly  this  lesson 
"talked  itself  alive."  I  wish  it  were  in 
pamphlet  form  as  I  would  like  to  pass  it 
on  to  many  as  a  gift  to  egg  them  on  to 
a  great  writer. 

— Laura  R.  Merrill 

Logan.  Utah 

Page  148 


Monthly  Publication  of  the  Relief   Society  of   The   Church   of   Jesus   Christ  of   Latter-day    Saints 

Belle  S.  Spaiford  ------  President 

Marianne  C.   Sharp  ...  -  -  First  Counselor 

Velma  N.  Simonsen  -  .  .  -  _       Second  Counselor 

\A         r-    T     .^argaret  C.   Pickering     -----  Secretary-Treasurer 

A^^^  D  •  Jr^^°-  E'^o^  W.  Peterson  Christine  H.  Robinson        Charlotte  A.  Larsen 

r5?i?  S-  5,?^*  Leone  O.  Jacobs  Alberta  H.  Christensen      Edith  P.  Backman 

bdith  S.  Elliott  Mary  J.  Wilson  Nellie  W.  Neal  Winniefred  S. 

t-lorence  J    Madsen  Louise  W.  Madsen  Mildred  B.  Eyring  Manworing 

Leone  G.  Loyton  Aleine  M.  Young  Helen  W.  Anderson  Elna  P.  Haymond 

Blanche  B.  Stoddard  Josie  B.  Bay  Gladys  S.  Boyer 


Editor     -  -  -  .  -  .  .  .  .  .  .      Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Associate  Editor  ---..-.-.        Vesta  P.  Crawford 

General  Manager        -----.-..  Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  41  MARCH  1954  NO.  3 


on  tents 


Relief  Society  Responsibilities  Joseph   Fielding   Smith  150 

The  American  Red  Cross  and  Its  Program  167 

Wilderness  Road  Willard  Luce  186 

My  Paradise  —  Cowslip  Hollow  Emily  Wilkerson  190 

Today  I  Reveal  Them  Rose  A.  Openshaw  194 


"One  Sweetly  Solemn  Thought"  —  Third  Prize  Story  Ruth  MacKay  153 

Their  Pictures  „ Mary  C.   Martineau  163 

Heritage   Mildred   Garrett   Enos  175 

The  Deeper  Melody  —  Chapter  6  Alice  Morrey  Bailey  196 


From  Near  and  Far  148 

Sixty  Years   Ago   168 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.  Cannon  169 

Editorial:  The  Lifeblood  of  Relief  Society  Marianne  C.   Sharp  170 

Announcing  the  Special  April  Short  Story  Issue  171 

Notes   to   the    Field:     Organizations    and    Reorganizations   of    Stake    and    Mission    Relief 

Societies  for   1953  172 

Notes  From  the  Field:    Relief  Society  Activities Margaret  C.  Pickering  201 


Shrubs  for  Your  Garden  Dorthea  Newbold  159 

Old  Quilts  Velma   Mackay   Paul  179 

Chloe  Call  Later  Makes  Her  Own  Quilt  Designs 192 

A  Sunken  Window  Garden  „...Celia  Luce  193 

Way  Down  Inside  Margaret  Lundstrom  205 

Bathroom  Tricks:    Potted  Plants  in  the  Bathroom  Elizabeth  Williamson  206 

Brighten  the  Corner  Where  You  Are  Caroline  Eyring  Miner  207 


The  ReUef  Society  —  A  World-Wide  Sisterhood  —  Frontispiece  Phyllis  Hodgson  Holbrook  147 

Against  the  Dark  „ Ouida  Johns   Pedersen  158 

Queen  of  Queens  Gene   Romolo  167 

Relief   Society  Elsie   Scott  171 

Nocturne  Grace   Barker  Wilson  173 

Sunrise  on  Cliff  Mountain  Gertrude   T.   Kovan  174 

"For  Which  the  First  Was  Made"  : Christie  Lund  Coles  178 

"Seek  After  These  Things"  Rhea  M.  Carrick  189 

Loneliness  Vesta  N.  Lukei  191 

Communication  Dora   Toone   Brough  192 

Morning  Is  Her  Delight  Lael  W.  Hill  200 

Hurry  Home  - Elsie  McKinnon  Strachan  206 

Our  Town Evelyn    Fjeldsted  207 

Spring  Fantasy  Verda    Mackay  207 

Orchard  in  Bloom  Eva   Willes   Wangsgaard  208 


Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah,  Phone  4-2511;  Sub- 
scriptions 246;  Editorial  Dept.  245.  Subscription  Price:  $1.50  a  year;  foreign,  $2.00  a  year; 
payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
back  numbers  can  be  supplied.  Renew  promptly  so  that  no  copies  will  be  missed.  Report  change 
of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Acceptance  for  mailing  at  special  rate  of  postage  provided  for  in 
section  1103,  Act  of  October  8,  1017,  authorized  June  29,  1918.  Manuscripts  will  not  be  returned 
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The  Magazine  is  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 

Relief  Society  Responsibilities 

President  Joseph  Fielding  Smith 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

[Address   Delivered   at   the  Annual   General   Relief   Society   Conference, 

September  30,  1953] 

Ifeel  honored  in  being  invited  to 
come  here  this  afternoon  to 
give  to  you  a  brief  address  in 
relation  to  the  Relief  Society  of  the 
Church.  And  I  know  you  are  just 
as  well  acquainted  with  the  organ- 
ization of  the  Relief  Society  as  I 
am;  nevertheless,  I  jotted  down 
from  the  history  a  few  items  in  re- 
lation to  the  organization  and  the 
instruction  that  was  given  at  that 
time  by  the  Prophet  Joseph  Smith. 
As  you  know,  the  society  was  or- 
ganized March  17,  1842,  in  Nauvoo. 
And  on  that  occasion  the  Prophet, 
John  Taylor,  and  others  were  pres- 
ent and  assisted.  'The  Female  Re- 
lief Society,"  I  am  quoting,  'was 
organized  in  Nauvoo  by  the  Proph- 
et Joseph  Smith"  who  stated  ''that 
the  purpose  of  the  society  is  to 
furnish  the  sisters  of  the  Church 
an  organization  through  which  they 
may  actively  foster  the  welfare  of 
the  members."  The  duty  of  the  so- 
ciety was  stated  to  be  "to  aid  the 
poor,  nurse  the  sick  and  afflicted, 
and  in  a  general  way,  under  the  di- 
rection and  guidance  of  the  bishop, 
to  engage  in  the  charitable  work  in 
behalf  of  all  those  requiring  assist- 

This  was  the  first  organization  of 
women  in  the  world,  so  far  as  his- 
tory records,  and  I  think  that  is 
quite  an  honor  to  think  that  the 
women  of  The  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints  took  the 

Page  1 50 

first    step    in    the    interest    of    the 

"This  is  in  keeping  with  the  gen- 
ius of  the  gospel,"  the  Prophet  said, 
"for  the  Lord  provides  duties  and 
labors  for  all  the  members  of  the 
Church,  both  men  and  women, 
wherein  service  may  be  rendered 
for  the  temporal  as  well  as  the 
spiritual  salvation  of  man." 

The  Church  was  so  organized 
that  all  the  members  may  find  in  it 
some  activity.  As  you  know,  most 
of  the  so-called  Christian  churches 
depend  upon  their  minister.  He 
does  all  the  work,  looks  after  the 
spiritual  interest  of  his  members, 
but  they  do  not  have  the  work  di- 
vided among  the  members.  But  the 
Lord  has  so  arranged  things  in  The 
Church  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  every 
man  and  woman  in  it  may  find 
some  responsibility  or  something  to 
do.  So  it  was  as  natural  as  it  could 
be  for  a  Relief  Society  to  come  into 
existence,  so  that  the  women  could 
have  a  society  of  their  own,  not  only 
to  engage  in  the  duties  which  I  have 
read,  but  that  they  might,  in  all  par- 
ticulars, labor  in  the  interest  of  the 
women  of  the  Church  and,  for  that 
matter,  in  charitable  matters  in  the 
interest  of  all  the  members,  male  as 
well  as  female.  And  so,  by  revela- 
tion, this  organization  was  estab- 
lished. Just  as  necessary  in  the 
Church  as  any  other  department. 



TN  his  instructions,  the  Prophet 
said:  "Do  not  injure  the  charac- 
ter of  anyone.  If  members  of  the 
society  shall  conduct  themselves  im- 
properly, deal  with  them,  keep  all 
of  thy  doings  within  your  own  bos- 
om and  hold  all  characters  sacred." 

I  think  that  is  very  wise  advice, 
not  only  in  the  Relief  Society  but 
in  the  quorums  of  the  Priesthood 
and  everywhere  else  within  the 
Church.  We  should  guard  the 
character  of  every  member.  We 
should  see  that  there  are  no  in- 
justices done. 

Again,   on   March    30,    1842,   he 


None  should  be  received  into  the  so- 
ciety but  those  who  are  worthy.  All  dif- 
ficulties which  might  and  would  cross  our 
way  must  be  surmounted.  Though  the 
soul  be  tried,  the  heart  faint  and  hands 
hang  down,  yet  we  must  not  retrace  our 
steps.  That  sympathy  alone  must  not  de- 
cide our  judgment.  All  must  act  in  con- 
cert or  nothing  can  be  done.  Sisters 
should  move  as  did  the  ancient  Priest- 
hood, in  unity.  It  should  be  a  select  so- 
ciety, separate  from  all  the  ills  of  the 
world,  choice,  virtuous,  and  holy.  The 
society  was  to  assist  by  directing  the  mor- 
als and  strengthening  the  virtues  of  the 
community  and  save  the  Elders  the 
trouble  of  rebuking  and  that  they  might 
have  their  time  for  other  duties. 

Now,  that  is  from  the  historv. 

There  are  a  great  many  duties, 
responsibilities,  that  are  given  to 
our  sisters,  not  all  of  them  are  in- 
cluded in  these  items  that  I  have 
read.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  Relief 
Society,  not  only  to  look  after  those 
who  are  members  of  the  Relief  So- 
ciety, but  their  labor  should  extend 
beyond  those  borders.  Wherever 
anybody  is  in  trouble,  needs  help, 
in  difficulties,  sick  or  afflicted,  we 
call  upon  the  Relief  Society.  Ac- 
cording to  the  words  of  the  Proph- 

et here,  'Tt  is  their  duty  also  to  as- 
sist in  seeing  that  there  is  no  in- 
iquity in  the  Church."  I  take  it 
that  those  labors  would  rest  more 
particularly  upon  them  in  relation 
to  the  sisters  of  the  Church,  and 
they  can  perform  a  great  and  won- 
derful work  by  encouraging  the  way- 
ward, helping  them,  bringing  them 
back  into  activity,  helping  them  to 
overcome  their  weaknesses  or  sins 
and  imperfections,  and  bringing 
them  to  an  understanding  of  the 
truth.  I  say  there  is  no  limit  to  the 
good  that  our  sisters  can  do. 

You  are  called  upon  constantly 
by  the  authorities  in  the  stakes  and 
in  the  wards.  And  I  don't  know 
what  in  the  world  our  stake  presi- 
dents and  bishops  in  the  wards 
would  do  if  they  didn't  have  these 
good  sisters  of  Relief  Society  upon 
whom  to  depend;  whom  they  can 
call  to  their  service,  many  times,  to 
handle  situations  that  would  be  very 
delicate,  that  is  for  our  brethren, 
but  which  our  sisters  may  perform 
to  the  very  greatest  advantage.  It 
would  be  a  wonderful  thing  if  all 
the  members  of  the  Church  were 
perfect.  If  that  were  the  case  we 
would  all  have  less  responsibility, 
both  the  men  and  the  women,  but 
that  time  has  not  come.  We  have 
members  among  our  sisters  who 
need  encouragement,  a  little  help 
spiritually  as  well  as  temporally,  and 
nobody  can  do  it  better  than  our 
sisters  who  belong  to  this  great  and 
wonderful  organization. 
TN  this  work  the  sisters  may  lend 
their  aid  in  encouraging  and 
helping  the  wayward,  indifferent, 
the  careless,  just  as  the  brethren  of 
the  Priesthood  are  called  upon  to 
do  in  behalf  of  the  wayward,  care- 
less,   and    indifferent    among    the 


brethren.     We  should  all  work  to  to   us,,   and   the   sisters   can   do   far 

bring  to  pass  righteousness  and  en-  more,  in  my  opinion,  laboring  with 

deavor  to  bring  back  into  activity  the  sisters,  than  the  brethren  would 

those  who  have  drifted  and  neglect-  be  able  to  do. 

ed  the  duties  of  the  Church.  Now,  may  the  Lord  bless  you  ni 

We  keep  a  record  that's  fairly  ac-  it,  in  all  these  things.     I  am  very 

curate  of  all  the  male  members  of  grateful  that  you  are  studying  the 

the  Church  who  are  inactive,  men  doctrines  of  the  Church.     Now,  I 

holding  the  Priesthood  who  are  not  am  not  going  to  say  much  about 

magnifying  their  callings;  and   the  that  nor  go  into  details  in  relation 

men   in   the   Church,   members   of  to  it,  because  you  have  topics  com- 

the   Church,   who  hold   no   Priest-  ing   up  in   the   latter   part   of  this 

hood.    We  have  our  brethren  labor-  meeting.    But  the  Lord  expects  the 

ing  among  them  to  try  to  get  them  sisters  to  be  qualified  with  a  testi- 

into  activity.  niony  of  the  truth  to  understand  the 

We  have  a  great  many  sisters,  doctrines  of  the  Church  just  as  he 
likewise,  who  are  delinquent  and  does  those  who  hold  the  Priesthood, 
careless,  and  who  are  not  living  ac-  If  we  gain  exaltation,  which  we 
cording  to  all  the  Lord  has  revealed  hope  to  obtain,  it  is  necessary  that 
and  required  of  them.  I  know  of  we  prepare  ourselves  by  knowledge, 
no  record,  however,  that  gives  us  by  faith,  by  prayer.  And  when  the 
the  number,  or  an  approximate  Lord  said,  ''Seek  ye  first  the  king- 
number,  of  the  sisters  who  belong  dom  of  God  and  his  righteousness," 
to  that  class.  But  here  is  a  work  he  was  not  talking  just  to  a  body  of 
the  Relief  Society  can  labor  in  as  men,  it  was  a  mixed  congregation, 
well  as  clothing  the  naked,  feeding  And  righteousness  is  required  of  all 
the  hungry,  caring  for  the  dead,  and  those  who  have  entered  the  waters 
attending  to  sucli  other  duties  of  baptism  and  have  obtained  the 
which  fall  upon  them  which  they  remission  of  their  sins, 
perform  so  faithfully  and  acceptably  May  the  Lord  bless  these  good 
in  the  Church.  sisters  who  preside  over  you  in  this 

It  would  be  a  glorious  thing  if  organization.     They  are  wonderful, 

we  could  all  live  as  did  the  Nephites  as  you  have  learned.     I  have  some- 

for   two   hundred   years   when   the  thing    to    do    with    them    once    in 

Lord  said,  or  at  least  the  Prophet  awhile;   occasionally  they  come  to 

writes,  that  there  was  no  iniquity  me  and  to  Brother  Petersen  with  a 

among  them,  no  envying,  no  strife,  problem;  we  try  to  help  them.  But 

no  wickedness  of  any  kind.    What  they  are  capable  and  can  solve  most 

a    glorious    thing    that    must   have  of  their  problems  without  any  help, 

been!    And  the  prophet  says,  there  The  Lord  bless  them,  bless  all  the 

could  not  be  a  happier  people  any-  other  sisters  who  are  presiding  in 

where   than   were   these   people  at  the  various  stakes  and  in  the  wards, 

that  particular  time.     Our  duty  is  and  all  those  who  are  active  in  the 

to  labor,   to   strive,   to   cry  repent-  organizations.    And  so  I  pray  in  the 

ance,  to  be  diligent  in  all  the  duties  name    of    the    Lord    Jesus    Christ, 

and  responsibilities  which  are  given  Amen. 

cJhifd  [Prize  Stor 


Jinnual  [Relief  Societif  Short  Story   Con 


4  4 

One  Sweetly  Solemn  Thought" 

Ruth  MacKav 


THE  words  had  burned  nito 
Prue's  brain  as  soon  as  she 
had  read  them.  Addressing 
a  Relief  Society  conference,  Presi- 
dent }.  Reuben  Clark,  Jr.,  had  said, 
"And  this  is  your  work  and  ours, 
to  save  not  only  Zion,  but  the 

Thoughts  chased  through  Prue's 
mind  of  the  need  for  saving  the 
world,  its  people  sadly  disillusioned, 
putting  their  faith  in  one  material 
thing  after  another,  and  gaining  no 
peace  of  mind  or  soul. 

She  suddenly  realized  the  bus  had 
stopped,  and,  with  a   cheery  word 

to  the  driver,  she  alighted.  As  she 
crossed  the  road  to  climb  the  hill  to 
her  home,  she  breathed  deeply  of 
the  pure  mountain  air.  She  looked 
with  affection  at  the  row  of  tall 
stately  gums  growing  on  the  road- 
side, the  crisp  brown  bark  hanging 
in  strips  from  the  trunks,  showing 
the  clean  yellow  boles  beneath.  A 
soft  wind  lazily  stirred  the  crimson 
tinted  leaves,  and  through  them  she 
could  see  into  the  field  beyond, 
where  the  wattles  with  their  crop 
of  fluffy,  golden  balls  glowed  in  the 
setting  sun. 

Prue  sniffed  appreciatively  at  the 
scent  which  wafted  to  her  on  the 
breeze,  and  turned  to  go  down  the 
old  track  which  led  to  her  home, 
stopping  by  the  gate  to  pick 
some  buttercups  and  forget-me-nots 
which  grew  there  in  profusion. 
Somehow,  today,  the  familiar  scene 
seemed  even  more  beautiful.  As  far 
as  she  could  see  were  mountains, 
rising  and  falling  into  the  distance, 
always  shaded  with  the  mist  that 
made  them  look  dark  blue.  The 
fleecy  white  clouds  billowing  up 
above  them  into  a  clear  blue  sky 
completed  a  picture  that  Prue  could 
always  visualize.  The  peaceful  se- 
renity of  the  scene  brought  balm  to 
her  heart. 

But  the  silence  was  shattered  as, 
with  a  whirring  of  wings  and  rau- 
cous   laughter,    a    kookaburra    flew 

Page  153 


from  the  trees  onto  Prue's  shoulder,  nervousness,  when  she  got  on  her 

Jacky  was  the  pet  of  the  neighbor-  feet,  she  stammered  and  stuttered 

hood;  he  had  fallen  from  the  nest  so  much  that  it  affected  her  breath- 

when  young,  and  Prue  had  nursed  ing,  and  she  could  only  gasp  out  a 

him  till  he  could  stand  and  fly.  He  few  words.     Locked  up  inside  her, 

was  very  tame,  and  would  hop  into  were  beautiful  thoughts  of  love,  of 

the  kitchens  nearby  for  the  titbits  belief  in  the  gospel,  together  with 

that  were  given  him,  flying  harm-  boundless  gratitude  to  the  mission- 

lessly  out  of  the  way  of  unfriendly  aries  who  came  out  to  Australia  to 

cats,  and  laughing  uproariously  at  seek  out  those  who  were  looking  for 

their  frustration  from  roof  or  chim-  the   truth.     She  felt  very  humble 

ney  tops.  that  the  Lord  had  led  them  to  her 

Prue  took  him  into  her  arms,  door.  If  only  she  could  reveal  what 
stroking  the  soft  brown  and  fawn  her  conversion  had  meant  to  her, 
feathers.  He  flew  ahead  of  her  as  the  feeling  of  at  last  coming  home 
she  let  him  go,  knowing  he  would  the  moment  she  had  entered  the 
be  rewarded  with  a  piece  of  meat  chapel;  the  deep,  abiding  testimony 
when  she  got  home.  Prue  fell  in  she  had  gained,  with  the  sincere  de- 
love  with  this  beautiful  world,  her  sire  to  live  all  the  principles  of  the 
heart  filled  with  gratitude  that  her  gospel  to  the  best  of  her  ability, 
life  could  be  spent  amidst  such  Her  life  had  been  completely 
pleasant  surroundings.  changed  by  the  visit  of  those  two 

But  the  thought  came  back  to  ^1^^^^     If  only  she  had  the  ability 

her,  'This  is  your  work  and  ours,  ^o  tell  others  a  1  these  things  may- 

to   save    not   only   Zion,    but    the  be  it  would  help  them,  too,  to  ac- 

world."  ^^P^  *^^  gospel. 

That  night  she  lay  tossing,  un-  QUDDENLY,  as  as  though  a  ray  of 

able  to  sleep.    What  could  she  do,  O  ^.^^^    ^^^    ^^^^^^^    ^^^   ^^^^^^ 

in   her  humble  way,   to  save   the  p^^^  ^^^^      ^^^^^  ^^5  ^  ^^^  ^^ 

world?    She  did  her  work  as  a  mem-  ^^-^^   ^-^^^  ^^^^  humbly  and  sin- 

ber  of  the  Relief  Society,  and  tried  ^^^^-^^^   ^^^-^^  ^^^^^  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^^1^ 

very  hard  to  do  all  that  was  re-  President  Clark  had  designated  to 

quired  of  her  as  Relief  Society  presi-  ^Yiem.     She  would  overcome  that 

dent.    Yet,  she  felt  that  that  wasn  t  f^-i'^g  ^f  j^^^g^  5^  ^Yiat  she  could 

what  President  Clark  had  meant,  explain  to  others  who  were  investi- 

There  was  something  more  required  ^^^^^^  ^Yie  truthfulness  of  this  won- 

of  her.    But  what?  What  must  she  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^^^  j^g^  ^^ly  she  believed 

do?  in  it  with  all  her  heart  and  soul. 

Towards  morning,  her  thoughts  She  knew  it  wouldn't  be  easy,  for 

went   back   to   the   previous   day's  she  was  well  past  forty,  and  it  would 

testimony  meeting.     How  she  en-  be  hard  to  overcome  a  lifetime  of 

vied  those  members  whose  fluency  diffidence,    but    overcome    it,    she 

of  words  enabled  them  adequately  would. 

to  express  their  love  and  steadfast  The   next   day   saw  her   timidly 

faith  in  the  gospel.  No  matter  how  climbing  the  steps  of  a  city  college 

much   she   tried   to   overcome  her  where  night  classes  in  public  speak- 



ing  were  held.  She  approached  the 
enquiry  desk,  fully  conscious  of  her 
mature  years  as  she  passed  groups 
of  young  students  chattering  gaily. 

'Tes,  Madam?"  asked  the  super- 
cilious young  clerk. 

''I  would  like  to  join  the  public 
speaking  class/'  she  said,  in  a  quiet 
little  voice. 

Taking  a  long  pink  form  from  a 
drawer,  the  young  man  enquired, 
very  crisply,  ''Name;  Address;  Ex- 

''No  experience"— he  looked  at 
her  as  though  she  had  committed 
a  crime,  explaining  that  the  teach- 
er, Mr.  Bell,  was  a  very  busy  man, 
being  as  well  a  radio  news  com- 
mentator, therefore  he  had  no  time 
to  waste  on  beginners. 

Seeing  her  obvious  embarrass- 
ment, he  stopped,  and  Prue,  nerv- 
ously twisting  her  fingers,  said,  "Oh, 
Fm  sorry,  I  really  shouldn't  have 

Perhaps  touched  by  her  sweet 
smile  of  apology,  he  unbent  to  tell 
her,  "You  go  over  to  Room  5, 
Block  E,  and  have  a  talk  with  Mr. 
Bell;  he  may  be  able  to  help  you." 
Then,  as  if  ashamed  of  being  found 
out  in  a  kind  action,  he  resumed 
his  writing. 

Prue  wandered  past  the  radio 
school  and  the  art  school  and  found 
Block  E,  Room  5  on  the  first  floor, 
and  Mr.  Bell  was  there  interview- 
ing his  prospective  students.  And 
what  an  array  they  were.  Prue's 
heart  sank  even  further.  Three  busi- 
ness executives,  two  top  engineers 
of  the  electric  company;  an  archi- 
tect, a  research  fellow  in  science  at 
the  university;  a  young  German 
scientist,  and  others  of  equally  high 
scholastic  qualifications. 

Standing  there  in  her  pale  blue 
frock  and  large  navy  picture  hat, 
Prue  did  not  realize  the  appealing 
picture  she  made  as  she  waited  for 
Mr.  Bell  to  speak  to  her.  What 
made  him  take  her  she  never  knew, 
but  she  was  grateful  for  being  ac- 
cepted, and  determined  to  do  her 

When  the  class  began,  she  had 
to  take  her  turn  with  the  others  in 
getting  up  to  say  just  why  she  want- 
ed to  learn  public  speaking.  She 
managed  to  explain  that  she  want- 
ed to  help  others.  Mr.  Bell  looked 
queerly  at  her,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders and  giving  a  sly  wink  to  one  of 
the  men.  A  peculiar  reason  this; 
usually  it  was  to  help  the  men  in 
their  business,  or  with  political  as- 
pirations, but  to  help  others!  Well, 
of  course,  she  was  a  woman,  and 
women  had  funny  ideas. 

npHE  next  six  months  for  Prue 
were  a  nightmare.  Each  Thurs- 
day night  they  each  had  to  speak 
for  from  four  to  ten  minutes  on 
subjects  chosen  by  Mr.  Bell.  And 
such  subjects:  political  questions; 
international  affairs;  economic  prob- 
lems; and  so  on.  Public  library 
patrons  and  attendants  came  to 
know  the  little  figure  as  she  pored 
over  books,  taking  copious  notes  in 
the  lunch  hour  period  from  her 

Several  times,  in  talks  given  by 
the  men,  religion  had  been  men- 
tioned, but  always  in  a  facetious, 
disparaging  way.  It  hurt  Prue  to 
liear  them  speak  this  way,  but  she 
realized  they  knew  no  better,  for 
they  did  not  have  the  blessing  of 
the  restored  gospel. 

Then  one  week  she  was  asked  to 
speak  on  "The  Message  of  Easter." 



Here  v^'as  a  subject  on  which  she 
did  not  have  to  go  to  hbraries  to 
gain  the  necessary  knowledge.  Lov- 
ingly she  thought  out  the  opening, 
the  body  of  her  talk,  and  the  clos- 
ing, using  the  knowledge  the  mis- 
sionary elders  had  taught  her 
through  the  years. 

When  her  turn  to  speak  came, 
the  thoughts  of  her  beautiful  sub- 
ject brought  a  light  to  her  face,  and 
a  sweet,  patient  smile  to  her  lips, 
and  the  words  came  without  effort. 
Returning  to  her  seat,  she  was 
startled  when  passing  Graham 
North,  the  architect,  as  he  hissed 
at  her,  ''Oh,  you're  too  good,  I 
always  feel  like  singing  hymns  and 
taking  up  a  collection  when  youVe 
finished  speaking." 

Mr.  Bell,  as  usual,  allowed  one 
of  the  class  to  criticize  the  speech, 
lie  nodded  to  Mr.  North. 

Oh,  no,  thought  Prue,  not  he, 
he  has  no  time  for  religion,  and  he 
just  doesn't  understand.  And  he 
was  the  one  who  had  so  distracted 
her  attention  in  one  of  her  talks 
that  she  had  broken  down  com- 
pletely and  couldn't  continue. 

Her  worst  fears  were  realized. 
Graham  completely  and  sarcastical- 
ly tore  her  talk  to  shreds.  Still 
smiling,  but  inwardly  sick  at  heart, 
she  wondered  if  it  were  worthwhile 
to  continue  with  the  lessons.  She 
had  been  foolish  to  come  at  all;  she 
was  out  of  her  depth  and  would 
never  make  a  public  speaker.  Oh, 
why  hadn't  they  taught  such  things 
when  she  went  to  school?  But  even 
if  they  had,  she  wouldn't  have  bene- 
fited, for  she  had  to  leave  school 
when  she  was  thirteen,  her  father 
having  died,  she  had  to  help  with 
the  family  finances. 

Feeling    utterly    crestfallen,    she 

made  her  way  out  of  the  building, 
followed  by  some  of  the  younger 
men  of  the  class.  Turning  to  say 
goodbye  to  them  at  the  street  cor- 
ner, one  of  them  halted  her,  saying, 
"What  religion  do  you  belong  to? 
Some  of  the  ideas  you  gave  in  your 
talk  tonight  are  new  to  me." 

'I'm  a  Mormon,"  she  said  simply. 

Then  followed,  right  there  on  the 
street  corner,  an  hour  of  discussion. 
Questions  and  answers  flew  back 
and  forth.  Sometimes  they  agreed 
with  her,  mostly  they  did  not,  and 
she  invited  them  to  the  chapel  so 
that  they  could  learn  more.  Two 
of  them  did  come  to  the  next  sacra- 
ment meeting,  being  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  obvious  sincerity 
of  all  who  took  part,  and  with  the 
warm  friendliness  of  the  saints. 
Prue's  heart  sang  with  joy,  and  she 
determined  she  would  carry  on  with 
the  lessons,  and  eventually  achieve 
a  measure  of  success  with  her  speak- 

'T^HE  following  I'hursday,  as  she 
sat  in  her  seat  awaiting  Mr. 
Bell's  criticism  of  her  talk  on  "The 
Racial  Problem  of  South  Africa," 
she  squared  her  shoulders;  she 
mustn't  be  afraid  of  criticism,  she 
must  learn  to  take  it,  and  use  it  to 
better  her  efforts. 

Mr.  Bell  addressed  the  class,  "T 
think  you  will  agree  with  me  that 
the  talks  given  by  our  lady  member 
here  have  all  had  one  definite 
characteristic— a  kindly  love  of  peo- 
ple, a  desire  for  their  betterment, 
and  a  high  personal  moral  standard. 
Here  is  someone  who  devotedly  be- 
lieves in  something,  something  she 
wants  to  share  with  others.  I  would 
like  to  say  we  are  happy  and  privi- 



leged  to  have  her  here  with  us." 

Prne  sat  stunned.  Surely  her 
poor,  miserable  little  efforts  at 
speechmaking  could  not  have  had 
that  effect.  Yet,  they  had,  for  the 
class  applauded  vigorously.  The  gos- 
pel was  surely  more  marvelous  than 
ever  if  it  could  shine  through  her 
halting  words  and  phrases  on  eco- 
nomics, racial  problems,  and  the 

Suddenly  shy,  she  turned  and 
faced  the  class,  murmuring,  'Thank 
you/'  but  a  chill  hand  caught  her 
heart  as  she  glimpsed  the  look  of 
distaste  on  Graham  North's  face. 

Thursday  came  round  agam,  but 
Prue  could  not  go  to  the  college, 
for  some  missionaries  were  return 
ing  home,  and  there  was  a  farewell 
social  at  the  chapel.  She  wondered 
if  their  parents  ever  fully  realized 
the  immense  amount  of  good  these 
lads  did  out  here  in  the  mission 
field.  Nothing  a  convert  could 
ever  do  could  ever  repay  them  for 
the  great  blessing  of  the  gospel  that 
they  brought.  It  was  sad  to  see 
them  go,  for  you  came  to  love  them 
as  your  own  sons.  But  how  nice 
for  them  to  be  once  more  with 
their  own  folks. 

Hurrying  along  the  next  week, 
Prue  realized  she  was  going  to  be 
late.  She  entered  the  classroom 
and  saw  all  were  seated  and  the  les- 
son about  to  begin.  Mr.  Bell  smiled 
a  welcome  at  her,  saying,  ''Here's 
Mrs.  Martin  now.*' 

She  looked  wondermgly  at  him 
as  they  greeted  her  with  applause, 
and  he  explained,  ''When  you 
didn't  come  last  week,  and  were 
not  here  at  your  usual  time  tonight, 
we  were  afraid  you  had  left  us,  so 
that  is  just  an  expression  of  their 
relief  that  you  are  still  coming." 

She  took  the  chair  he  indicated, 
only  to  find  she  was  sitting  next  to 
Graham  North.  Smiling  at  him, 
she  got  out  her  books. 

OER  talk  that  night  was  impromp- 
tu, and  she  realized  herself  that 
it  wasn't  good,  so  when  Graham 
was  called  on  to  criticize,  she  braced 
herself  for  what  she  knew  would  be 
coming.  But,  somehow  it  was  dif- 
ferent. Gone  was  the  sarcasm  in 
Graham's  voice— it  was  soft  and 
pleasant— and  he  was  showing  her, 
in  a  kindly  way,  where  her  faults 
lay.  Then  he  concluded  that  he 
appreciated  the  kindness  and  toler 
ance  that  she  gave  to  all  of  them. 

When  called  upon  to  give  his 
own  talk,  the  class  sat  quiet.  Here 
was  a  Graham  they  did  not  know. 
Instead  of  opening  in  the  loose, 
bantering  way  in  which  he  usually 
did,  his  voice  was  firm  and  clear,  as 
though  he  had  a  message  to  deliver. 
He  compelled  their  complete  atten- 
tion as  he  went  from  point  to  point, 
likening  his  work  as  an  architect  to 
that  of  the  work  of  Christ. 

Prue  stared  at  him.  Was  this 
the  man  who  had  always  spoken  so 
lightly  of  moral  standards? 

Classwork  over,  he  leaned  toward 
her,  "How  did  you  like  the  way  I 
brought  in  religion  tonight?"  he 

With  eyes  shining,  she  said,  with 
all  sincerity,  "I  thought  it  was  fine." 

He  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder, 
saying  seriously,  "Listen,  girl,  you've 
got  the  only  answer  for  the  troubles 
of  this  world.  I've  tried  hard  to 
find  your  weak  spot,  but  you've 
always  given  me  back  sweetness  and 
understanding.  You're  a  good  mis- 
sionary for  Christ,  and  do  you  know 
what?       I've    started    reading    the 



Bible  again,  something  I  haven't 
done  for  years,  and  I  can  read  it 
now  with  a  new  understanding." 

Leaving  the  college  building, 
Prue's  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and 
her  heart  overflowing  with  gratitude 
that  she  was  privileged  to  be  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Church  that  had  the  re- 
stored gospel.  There  came  to  her 
mind  a  little  legend  she  had  once 
heard  of  the  nativity  of  Christ. 

The  whole  world  was  full  of  won- 
der the  night  Christ  was  born— the 
animals  gave  of  their  breath  to 
warm  the  air,  the  flowers  gave  of 
their  fragrance  to  give  it  sweetness, 
the  birds  gave  their  song,  and  the 
butterflies  their  color.  But  the  poor, 

humble  little  worm  had  nothing  to 
give,  so  he  picked  up  a  fallen  petal, 
and  crawled  painstakingly  to  the 
manger  where  the  Christ  child  lay. 
In  turning,  the  babe  touched  the 
worm  and  to  this  day  it  glows  so 
that  it  is  called  the  glowworm. 

The  touch  of  Christ  can  make  us 
all  glow,  thought  Prue,  and  maybe 
this  is  what  President  Clark  meant, 
when  he  told  us  to  save  the  world. 
To  keep  that  spirit  of  love  and  un- 
derstanding so  bright  within  our- 
selves, by  adhering  to  the  principles 
that  we  are  taught— then  would  our 
lights  so  shine  before  men,  that  they 
would  be  drawn  by  their  brilliance. 

Ruth  MacKay,  Lethbridge,  Alberta,  Canada,  appears  for  the  first  time  as  a  winner 
in  the  ReHef  Society  Short  Story  Contest,  with  her  offering  "One  Sweetly  Solemn 
Thonght."  A  convert  to  the  Church,  Mrs.  MacKay,  has  traveled  in  many  parts  of  the 
world.  "I  am  an  Australian,"  she  tells  us,  "and  this  story  is  the  first  one  submitted, 
the  only  other  publication  being  an  article,  'We  Seek  After  These  Things'  published 
in  The  Rehef  Society  Magazine  in  1951.  I  am  at  present  working  on  a  book.  I  ar- 
rived in  the  United  States  last  June,  and  proceeded  to  Canada  for  the  wedding  of  one 
of  my  daughters,  of  whom  I  have  three:  Ruth,  married,  and  living  in  Australia;  Joan, 
married,  and  living  in  Canada;  and  Yvonne,  studying  at  Brigham  Young  University. 
For  nearly  two  years,  after  the  return  to  the  United  States  of  Sister  Myrtle  G.  Chris- 
tensen,  because  of  ill  health,  I  acted  as  president  of  the  Australian  Mission  Relief  So- 
ciety. I  am  an  accountant  by  profession,  being  formerly  head  of  the  administration 
and  finance  of  the  Press  Attache's  office  of  the  Netherlands  Legation  in  Australia." 

J^gainst  the    Jjark 

Ouida  Johns  Federsen 

Hyacinths,  fragrant  tapers  of  the  spring. 

Kindle  the  ground  to  new  remembering; 

New  seedlings  force  their  tender  roots  in  stone 

Crevices  to  splinter  granite  bone. 

Then  waking  turf  renews  its  emerald  sea; 

Refutes  once  more  the  grave's  finality. 

Seeing  once  again  the  earth's  reprieve 

From  darkness,  we  are  strengthened — and  believe. 

(bhruos  for    LJour  (garden 

Dorthea  Newhold 

Deseret  News  Garden  Editor 

A  shrub  is  anybody's  plant.  You  the  size  the  shrub  will  attain  at  ma- 
just  can't  go  wrong  with  them  turity. 
unless  you  plant  them  too  With  wise  selection  of  shrubs,  you 
close  together  and  fail  to  give  them  can  screen  out  unsightly  views,  make 
a  yearly  pruning.  You  can  have  a  mass  plantings,  have  a  flowering 
whole  garden  of  shrubs,  colorful  the  hedge,  or  divide  your  garden  area 
year  around.  You  can  use  them  to  into  rooms  for  greater  beauty.  At 
give  your  garden  complete  privacy,  the  same  time  you  will  shut  off,  to 
to  separate  one  section  from  the  a  degree,  the  noises  from  a  busy 
other,  and,  best  of  all,  the  shrub  street,  creating  a  beautiful  retreat  for 
garden  is  easy  to  maintain  and  in-  family  and  friends, 
expensive.  Foundation  plantings  using  de- 
Shrubs  are  woody  plants  of  bushy  ciduous  shrubs  offer  the  gardener  an 
habits,  developing  several  stems  in-  opportunity  to  create  a  planting 
stead  of  a  trunk  as  does  a  tree.  They  that  is  original  and  suitable  to  his 
are  a  permanent  part  of  the  garden,  own  home.  With  thought  and  care- 
yet,  surprisingly,  little  thought  or  ful  placing  of  shrubs,  he  will  have 
imagination  is  given  to  the  selection  a  planting  that  will  not  be  seen 
and  arrangement  of  shrubs.  Too  around  every  other  house  along  the 
many  shrubbery  plantings  are  dull  street. 

part  of  the  year.     One  reason  for  Flowering  shrubs  planted  close  to- 

this  is  the  monotonous  over-planting  gether  for  a  hedge  should  be  left  un- 

of  a  few  well-known  kinds.  The  over-  clipped,  but  should  not  be  allowed 

planting  of  Spirea  Van  Houtti  is  an  to  grow  without  a  yearly  pruning 

example.  so  they  become  an  unsightly  tangle. 

Every  garden  has  its  own  peculiari- 
ties and  some  varieties  of  shrubs  will  TN  areas  where  winters  are  severe, 
not  thrive  in  it,  but  there  is  such  a  no  flowers  are  more  welcome 
wealth  of  material  to  choose  from  than  those  which  appear  early  in  the 
that  there  is  no  excuse  for  the  over-  year.  Pussywillows— one  clump  of 
planting  of  one  variety.  them— will  prove  to  be  a  delight  to 
Before  making  a  selection  of  young  and  old,  for  who  can  resist 
shrubs  consider  the  location,  and  the  the  charm  of  those  gray  catkins  as 
exposure,  whether  the  shrubs  will  be  they  emerge  from  their  brown  win- 
in  sun  or  shade;  whether  you  have  ter  coats. 

heavy  soil  which  retains  the  moisture  Fortunate  are  those  who  can  suc- 

or  soil  that  is  light  and  dry.  Con-  ceed  with  witch  hazel  —  its  lovely 

sider,  too,  the  amount  of  space  to  be  blooms  come  so  early  in  the  year  to 

filled,  for  this  will  determine  wheth-  signal  that  spring  is  on  its  way.  Daph- 

er  you  will  select  a  dwarf,  medium,  ne  cneorum  is  a  choice  plant  for 

or  large-growing  type  of  shrub.    A  edgings  for  the  shrubbery  border  or 

good  nursery  catalogue  will  give  you  for  rock  gardens.    Viburnum  burk- 

Pooe  159 





woodi  can't  wait  for  the  leaves  to 
show  up,  but  puts  out  a  dazzhng 
beautiful  waxy  flower  that  wafts  its 
fragrance  over  the  newly  awakened 
garden.  Then  the  forsythias  —  sev- 
eral varieties,  come  along,  bowing 
their  wands  of  yellow  bloom  to  all. 
Cydonia  japonica,  with  its  brilliant 
orange  to  red  blooms,  seems  to  be 
the  signal  for  all  the  spring  flower- 
ing shrubs  to  put  on  their  show,  for 
then  the  real  display  in  shrubdom 

Spireas,  Viburnum  carlesi,  Vi- 
burnum tomentosum,  and  other  vi- 
burnums, flowering  almonds,  Prunus 
triloba,  honeysuckle,  weigelas,  burst 
into  an  extravagant  display. 

Then  come  the  lilacs.  What  mir- 
acles of  beauty,  of  color,  of  fragrance 
are  these!  The  old  common  laven- 
der and  white,  the  elegant  new 
French  varieties,  or  those  Persian 
beauties  with  their  soft  plumes  of 
lavender  flowers— all  are  an  asset  in 
the  shrub  border. 

Then  a  lull  comes,  and  the  ex- 
quisite beauty  of  the  mock  orange 
enhances  the  scene— it  seems  to  have 
waited  purposely  till  now  to  show 
its  perfect  beauty.  As  a  lower-grow- 
ing companion,  its  white  flowers 
covering  every  stem,  we  see  Deutzia 
gracilis— perfect  for  the  front  of  the 

Hypericum  —  St.-John's-wort,  a 
low-growing  shrub,  is  an  excellent 
ground  cover,  is  welcome  in  every 
garden,  for  it  blooms  from  early  sum- 
mer until  hard  frost. 

With  the  summer,  Spirea  An- 
thony Waterer,  Potentilla  fruiticosa, 
the  altheas,  Vitex  agnuscastus,  Cary- 

Courtesy  the  Deseret  News 


Gives  an  excellent  display  every  spring 

(yellow  flowers). 

opteris  incana,  the  hydrangeas,  the 
faithful  smoke  tree,  and  tamarix, 
will  bring  another  riot  of  color. 

■pALL  and  its  accompanying  frosts 
make  us  conscious  of  those  shrubs 
which  hold  their  leaves  a  bit  longer 
than  does  the  average  shrub,  and 
conscious,  too,  of  colorful  leaves. 
The  privets  can  be  depended  on  to 
hold  their  leaves  well  into  the  bitter 
cold  weather.  Cotoneaster,  most  of 
the  varieties  of  euonymus,  beauty 
bush,  viburnums,  snowberry,  and 
pyracantha  will  hold  their  leaves 
well,  some  of  them  until  December. 
Now  come  colorful  berries  and 
foliage— these  are  extra  beauty  divi- 
dends and  gardeners  accept  them 
with  gratitude.  Euonymus  altaus 
compactus  has  foliage  of  an  unbe- 

Opposite  Page:  Deciduous  shrubs,  evergreens,  and  other  trees  used  to  bring 
privacy  into  a  small  garden  or  to  divide  the  garden  into  rooms.  Trees  may  be  used  to 
frame  the  home  or  to  frame  a  lovely  view. 

Photograph,  courtesy  the  Deseret  News. 



Courtesy  the  De&eret  News 


Juniper  at  the  entrance;  trimmed  snowberry  bushes;  pyracantha  bushes  at  the  corner, 
giving  height  where  it  is  needed. 

lievable  brilliance.  It  is  of  a  com- 
pact growth  and  will  grow  in  semi- 

Berried  shrubs  —  they  are  an  open 
invitation  to  the  birds  to  stay  with 
us  a  bit  longer  —  promise  luscious 
feasts  for  a  long  time.  Snowberry, 
pyracanthas,  honeysuckles,  coton- 
easters,  Berberis  euonymus,  maho- 
nias,  and  some  of  the  viburnums  will 
produce  a  crop  of  berries. 

Now  it  is  winter,  and  we  have 
almost  completed  our  cycle,  and  we 

wonder  what  to  use  for  winter  color. 
We  can  depend  on  dogwood,  the 
red-twigged  and  the  yellow  twigged 
varieties,  to  bring  life  and  color  to 
the  sleeping  garden.  There  are  some 
willows  that  have  a  yellow  bark  and 
will  add  color  to  the  winter  land- 
scape. Kerria  japonica  shows  stems 
of  bright  green  —  the  forsythias 
show  stems  of  a  deep  brownish  pur- 

For  ease  of  upkeep,  for  sheer 
beauty,  and  little  cost,  nothing  can 
surpass  a  garden  of  shrubs. 

Their  Pictures 

Mary  C.  Martineau 

TO  be  sure  Virginia  didn't  have 
soft  brown  eyes  with  a  mourn- 
ful expression  in  them,  neither 
did  she  have  brown  hair  parted  de- 
murely in  the  middle  and  kinked 
evenlv  down  on  both  sides,  as  the 
enlarged  picture  showed  when  the 
canvasser  finally  brought  it  after  she 
had  given  up  hope.  But  he  had  ac- 
complished some  things  that  she 
noticed  at  a  glance,  as  he  leaned  it 
up  against  the  kitchen  door  and  in- 
vited those  present  to  inspect  it  at  a 
distance.  He  had  caught  her  youth 
in  the  oval,  wrinkleless  face  with  its 
soft  rosy  cheeks  and  deeper  rosy 
lips,  and  her  dress— oh,  it  was  a 
masterpiece!  It  was  just  perfect: 
mahogany  brown  cashmere  with 
reverses  turned  back,  revealing  a 
deeper  brown  but  exquisitely  match- 
ing satin  front,  which  was  gathered 
at  the  neck  into  a  satin  ''choker" 
collar  of  the  same  color. 

Virginia  looked  and  looked  at 
the  picture;  she  was  inwardly 
pleased,  but  she  said,  'Why  didn't 
the  artist  make  my  hair  almost 
black  and  glossy,  and  why  aren't  my 
eyes  just  dark  and  not  so  docile? 
I've  a  good  notion  not  to  take  it 
at  all." 

The  canvasser  bent  his  head  sad- 
ly and  said  in  a  most  contrite  man- 
ner, "It's  hard  to  remember  every- 
thing. Madam,  and  when  I  thought 
of  you  and  looked  at  the  photo- 
graph, I  must  have  imagined  that 
your  hair  and  eyes  are  as  the  en- 
larged picture  shows,  and  I  am  sure 
your  eyes  are  browner  than  you 
think.  The  color  of  your  beautiful 
dress  makes  them  look  that  way  to 


''Nonsense,"  said  Virginia. 

"How  do  you  like  the  frame, 
Madam?"  asked  the  canvasser  humb- 
ly. ''Great  care  was  used  in  the 
choosing  of  it,  for  it  is  of  full  oak, 
and  the  designs  on  it  are  Venetian, 
I  am  told,  and  the  gilt  is  really 
gold,"  he  went  on,  as  if  divulging 
a  great  secret. 

Virginia  smiled  about  the  real 
gold,  but  replied,  "The  frame  is  all 
right,"  and  going  to  the  cupboard 
and  reaching  up  on  the  top  shelf, 
she  brought  down  a  brown  wallet, 
and  from  it  extracted  a  ten-dollar 
gold  piece.  She  handed  the  money 
to  the  canvasser,  who  backed  away 
from  the  picture  and  from  the  door 
in  a  most  polite  manner.  Hurriedly, 
he  got  into  his  buggy,  which  con- 
tained enough  enlarged  pictures  for 
the  whole  countryside,  and  away  he 
drove  up  the  lane  as  fast  as  his  old 
horse  could  be  persuaded  to  trot. 
He  had  a  picture  for  the  Glens 
whose  little  boy  had  been  drowned 
in  the  river;  a  picture  of  Mrs.  Del- 
bert's  mother  sitting  on  a  straight 
chair.  The  pictured  lady  had  a 
most  somber  face,  a  double  chin, 
and  a  striped  dress.  He  also  had  a 
picture  of  Grandpa  Weathers  in  his 
Civil  War  uniform,  when  he  was 
young,  and  he  had  a  picture  of 
Marthy  Jenkins'  oldest  daughter, 
with  her  hair  let  down  her  back, 
and  so  on.  He  was  in  a  hurry  to 
get  them  all  delivered,  realizing  how 
lucky  he  was  to  have  the  ten  dollars 
already  in  his  pocket,  but  he  would 
be  luckier  if  the  other  patrons 
would  accept  theirs  and  pay  up. 

Page  163 


AFTER   he    was    gone,    Virginia  in    the    doorway.     ''Well,    by    the 

turned  to  her  boys,  who  had  continental,"  he  said,  taking  his  old 

said  nothing,  and  asked,  "What  do  white  felt  hat  off  and  rubbing  his 

you  think  of  it?"  hand  through  his  hair,  'where  in 

The    youngest    one    said,    "It's  thunder  did  that  come  from?" 

awful  pretty.  Ma,  and  almost  like  "Don't  you  like  it,  John?"  asked 

you,"  but  the  oldest  one  said,  "I  Virginia. 

think  your  photograph  is  the  pret-  ''It   doesn't   look   a   confounded 

tiest.  Ma.    Did  you  get  your  photo-  thing  like  you,  Virginia.     I  think 

graph  back?"  you  got  bit  that  time."  Then,  notic- 

Virginia  thought  he  was  right  in  ing  the  snap  in  her  eyes,  for  she 

some  ways,  but  the  photograph  was  never  could  stand  to  have  anyone 

only  black  and  white,  and  her  pic-  think  that  she  was  green  enough 

ture  on  it  was  only  one  of  a  family  to  get  bit,  he  said,  with  his  own  eyes 

group,  and  she  thought  it  quite  mar-  twinkhng,    "Now,   you   know  your 

velous  that  it  had  been  singled  out  eyes  have  some  life  and  sparkle  in 

as  promised  and  made  into  a  large,  them,  but  the  eyes  in  that  picture 

colored  picture  all  framed  and  ready  look  like  a  dying  calf's." 

to  hang  on  the  wall.  Now  Virginia  was  smiling  and  so 

She  said,  "Yes,  Son,  here  is  the  were  her  eyes.    John  came  forward, 

photograph.     He  gave  it  back  just  hung  his  hat  on  a  nail  behind  the 

as  he  promised,  and,  while  the  pic-  door,  poured  some  water  from  the 

ture  isn't  all   it  should  be,   yet   I  bucket  on  the  washstand  into  the 

promised  to  take  it,  so  we'll  hang  it  tin    washbasin    and    proceeded    to 

up  and  make  the  best  of  it."  wash  his  face  and  hands  before  tak- 

Virginia  liked  to  look  at  her  pic-  ing  his  place  at  the  table  with  his 

ture.    The  hair  was  so  smooth,  just  family. 

the  way  she  always  combed  hers  in  Supper  began  in  the  usual  man- 

the    morning,    but    never    had    a  ner  by  his  asking  the  blessing,  and, 

chance  to  look  at  again  all  day,  ex-  afterwards,  Virginia  glanced  up  for 

cept  as  she  happened  to  glance  in  just  an  instant  at  the  sad  brown 

the  mirror  above  the  wash-bench  as  eyes  in  the  picture,  smiling  to  her- 

she  washed  and  combed  the  chil-  self  and  wondering, 
dren's  hair  for  dinner.  As  she  looked 

at  the  picture  again,  she  liked,  too,  A  ^L  the  wives  along  the  country- 
the  looks  of  the  soulful  brown  eyes  side  were  pleased  with  their 
and  wished  she  knew  the  secret  that  pictures,  and  the  canvasser  went 
lay  behind  them,  for  her  own  eyes  away  with  more  orders,  to  his  own 
laughed  when  she  was  happy,  and  surprise  and  to  the  disgust  of  the 
they  snapped  when  she  was  angry,  husbands  from  whose  flat  pockets 
Why  couldn't  her  eyes  be  always  the  ten  dollars  had  been  wrung, 
sweet  and  appealing  like  the  ones  John  said  he'd  throw  the  next  can- 
in  the  picture,  though  of  course  not  vasser  off  the  place,  if  he  ever 
so  dull  looking.  caught  him  coming  there  again. 

When  John  came  in  to  supper,  One    evening    she    caught    John 

the  picture  was  the  first  thing  that  looking  at  her  picture  as  she  sat 

caught  his  eye.     He  stopped  short  knitting  by  the  fading  light  of  the 


window.     He  was  lying  on  the  old  Bye  and  bye  he  ran  down  and  sat 

lounge  resting  and  telling  her  about  still  waiting  her  verdict,  and  Vir- 

the  happenings  of  the  day,  but  look-  ginia  had  a  verdict.     Going  to  the 

ing  at  her  picture  with  kindly  eyes  family  album,  she  slid  a  youthful 

and   with   a    sort   of    longing,    she  photograph  of  John  out  of  it,  and, 

thought,  in  his  own.  handing  it  to  the  canvasser,   said. 

On  the  very  next  day,  when  John  ''See   that  you  take   good   care  of 

had  gone  to  take  a  grist  to  the  mill,  this,    I    wouldn't    lose    it    for    the 

the  canvasser  came  again.  lie  drove  world." 

down  the  lane  and  tied  his  horse  to  He  promised  faithfully.    After  be- 

a   tree.     Upon   getting  out  of  his  ing  told  to  make  John's  hair  a  light 

buggy,  he  took  off  his  duster  and  brown  and  soft  and  curly,  not  dark, 

put  it  back  on  the  buggy  seat,  ad-  as  the  photograph  showed  it,  and  to 

justed  his  derby  hat,  picked  up  his  be  sure  to  make  his  eyes  blue,  a 

samples,  and  came  to  the  door.  heavenly  blue,  and  not  to  forget  the 

Virginia  met  him  with  a  curt  dimple  in  his  chin,  the  canvasser 
''How  do  you  do,"  and  drove  the  left  the  house, 
flies  back  with  a  paper  as  he  hurried  Now  the  ordering  was  to  be  kept 
through  the  screen  door  that  closed  a  secret  so  Pa  would  be  surprised 
after  him  with  a  bang.  He  stood  in  and  awfully  happy  when  his  picture 
meekness  until  invited  by  httle  came.  It  was  a  glorious  secret,  but 
Bill  to  sit  down,  and  then  he  sat  Virginia  spent  a  sleepless  night  try- 
down  and  said  with  a  smile,  '1  see  ing  to  figure  out  where  she  could 
you  have  your  lovely  picture  hang-  possibly  get  another  extra  ten  dol- 
ing up.  I  hope  your  husband  liked  lars,  for  she  knew  very  well  that 
it.  I'm  sure  he  couldn't  help  liking  John  didn't  have  a  cent  to  spare, 
it.  I  came  today  to  see  if  you  Why  school  would  be  starting  soon 
would  consider  sending  one  of  him  —what  could  she  have  been  think- 
to  be  enlarged.  I  think  it  would  ing  of  anyway— the  children  would 
please  him  mightily.  Sometimes  hus-  need  shoes  and  slates— and  every- 
bands  feel  neglected  in  such  mat-  thing?  Why,  oh,  why  did  she 
tejs /'  always   give   herself   something    to 

Virginia  almost  caught  her  breath  worry  about?  John  would  probably 

as  she  remembered  how  John  had  only  be  vexed  anyway.  Bye  and  bye 

looked    at    her    picture    when    he  she  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep,  m 

didn't  know  she  saw  him.  Yes,  she  spite  of  her  worry  and  John's  deep 

thought  to  herself,  that  was  it,  he  snores,  and  slept  till  daylight, 
was  feeling  neglected.    I  will  send 

his  picture-but  how  can  I  manage  'TIME  went  by  and  the  secret  held. 

[l?  John  went  about  his  farm  work 

As  the  canvasser  talked  on  and  with  great  energy,  and  the  canvas- 
on,  persuading  the  persuaded,  she  ser  was  forgotten  by  everyone  ex- 
turned  the  idea  over  in  her  mind  cept  Virginia.  She  had  a  skel- 
and  let  him  talk.  The  little  boys  eton  in  her  closet  now,  and  she 
gathered  close  about  her  also  urg-  could  hear  it  rattle  quite  often.  It 
ing  her  here  and  there  whenever  must  not  escape,  so  she  put  the  lit- 
the  canvasser  paused  at  a  comma,  tie  blue  teapot  on   the   top   shelf, 


and  every  time  her  fears  grew  high  So  he  said  no  more, 

she  took  a  httle  of  her  egg  money  Then  the  great  day  came.    John 

or  a  httle  of  the  milk  check  and  was  in  the  field  mowing  when  the 

dropped   it   in,   thus   silencing   the  canvasser  drove  down  the  lane;  but 

rattle.  John  spied  him  and,  quickly  as  he 

One  day  John  brought  a  traveler  could,  he  drove  his  horses  to  the 

to  the  house.    The  traveler  was  in-  near   end   of   the   field,    unhitched 

quiring  about  the  best  place  to  ford  them,   and   hurried   to   the   house, 

old  Bear  River,  and  he  also  wanted  But  he  arrived  just  as  the  canvasser 

some  dinner  for  himself  and  some  had  delivered  the  picture,  pocketed 

hay    for    his    own    team.     In    true  the   money,   and   was   getting   into 

Yankee  style,  John  invited  him  to  his  buggy. 

stay  to  dinner  and  then  took  the  Virginia  had  accepted  the  pic- 
horses  to  the  corral  and  gave  them  ^ure  hastily,  handed  over  the  mon- 
huge  forkfuls  of  hay.  ey,  and  got  rid  of  him  almost  be- 

Virginia   hardly  knew  what   she  fore  he  realized  it,  for  she  had  seen 

could  feed  the  man,  or  the  family  John  coming  and  remembered  the 

either,  for  that  matter,  but  so  as  threat.    She  hated  scenes, 

not  to  disappoint  John,  she  had  a  jo^^  said,  "How  do  you  do,"  and 

chicken  killed  and  fried  it,  baked  the  canvasser  answered,  "How  do 

hot  biscuits,  mashed  the  potatoes,  yo^^   ^o,"    and   drove   away.     John 

brought  butter  and  milk  from  the  ^ame  on  quietly  into  the  house,  as 

cool  cellar,  and,  with  a  little  honey  Virginia  drew  a  long  breath, 

for  dessert  and  John   to   tell  bear  simultaneously  they  turned,  and 

stories,  the  dinner  was  a  great  sue-  ^j^^^.^    ^^^    the    picture    of    John 


,^,,         -  1,1  propped  carefully  against  the  kitch- 

When  the  man  was  ready  to  leave  \^     rloor 

with  John,  to  show  him  where  the         ,,,^,-  '.    ,  ^„  ,  ,  ,      ,    . 

r     1  ^      1     .  1  4-    \/-    •   •     o   ^  What  the  .  .  .?    began  John,  but 

ford  was,  he  turned  to  Virginia,  and,  _,.    .   .        .    ,    ,,^,     ^?  ^  ^  .t_ 

after  thanking  her  for  the  nice  din-  V.rgm.a  cned     Oh,  that  man-the 

ner,  he  handed  her  a  ten-dollar  gold  P'^'"'-^  ,^°e^"  *  ^°°\  ^}>'^  ''"^^^  y°"' 

•      ,    ry.    T  u   '      i.1.  o^      J  lohn.     See  the  dark  hair  and  the 

piece!    To  John  s  utter  surprise  and  J^^^^   •    ,    ,  ^,     ^  i.      t> 

.    T-        .1  4-  J    4.   xT^  mustache    Oh,  John,  1  m  so  sorry, 

great  disgust,  she  accepted  it.  Nev-  ^"'^•^'-^^  v.    ^  ,  j       ,  ; 

er  had  such  a  thing  been  heard  of         John  only  stared  at  the  picture 

before     in     the    vaUey    anywhere.  •  •  •  the  handsome  face  so  unlike 

Imagine,  taking  pay  for  a  meal  of  him  in  color,  and  yet  there  were  the 

victuals.     But  Virginia  was  desper-  merry   blue   eyes  and   the   dimple, 

ate-she  could  hear  the  skeleton  rat-  which   John   noted,   silent,   but   in- 

tle.    Pa  couldn't.  wardly  pleased. 

John  remarked,  upon  his  return         Virginia  broke  in,  "It's  just  hor- 

to  the  house,  that  he  had  his  opin-  rid,  John,  and  I  accepted  the  mon- 

ion    of    anyone    who    was     small  ey  to  pay  for  it  to  surprise  you." 

enough  to  take  pay  for  doing  a  good  "And   I   love  you   dearly,"   John 

turn.     Then  Virginia's  eyes  really  said,  putting  his  arms  around  her. 

looked  something  like  the  eyes  in  "It's  not  so  good,  darling,  but  we'll 

her   enlarged   picture,    as    she   said  hang  it  up  along  with  yours."    And 

sadly,  "I'm  sorry,  John."  he  did. 

cJhe  J/imerican  uieci   Cross  and  iJts  U^rocjmin 

^^npIIE  Red  Cross  personifies,  as  nearly  as  any  organization  of  which  I 
can  think,  those  great  and  noble  virtues  of  man  that  are  the  richest 
heritage  from  the  Almighty." 

Thus  spoke  President  Dwight  D.  Eisenhower  at  the  dedication  cere- 
monies at  the  new  District  of  Columbia  Red  Cross  Chapter  House  on  Oc- 
tober 1,  1953. 

"We  have  many  examples  nowadays  of  man's  selfishness,  man's  bru- 
tality and  inhumanity  to  man,  man's  readiness  to  forget  the  golden  rule 
and  to  hve  by  some  standard  that  he  thinks  will  immediately  advantage 
him  at  the  expense  of  his  fellows,"  the  President  said. 

''We  have  this  in  the  international  field.  We  have  it  far  too  often 
and  discouragingly  among  groups  or  classes  at  home.  The  Red  Cross,  the 
nature  of  its  slogan,  of  its  purposes,  the  work  that  has  been  done  through 
it,  and  the  people  that  belong  to  it,  bring  to  us,  as  we  tend  to  gather  dis- 
couragement about  such  things,  realization  that  man  is  also  made  of  nobler 
qualities  than  those  of  selfishness  and  greed  and  personal  advantage.  He 
is  made  up  also  of  sacrifice,  of  nobleness,  and  love  for  fellow  humans." 

The  Red  Cross  has  been  distributing  gamma  globulin  since  1944, 
largely  as  a  measles  prophylaxis,  but  recently,  the  organization  was  called 
upon  to  undertake  an  immediate  and  dramatic  expansion  of  its  operations 
to  make  available  all  the  gamma  globulin  possible  for  the  inoculation  of 
children  in  the  polio  fight.  In  accordance  with  standard  Red  Cross  prac- 
tice, this  gamma  globulin  was  provided  to  the  American  people  without 
charge  for  the  derivative. 

As  a  result  of  this  plan,  the  Red  Cross  will  turn  over  to  the  Office 
of  Defense  Mobilization  more  than  11,118,000  centimeters  of  gamma 
globulin  by  the  end  of  1954.  The  organization  will  continue  to  make 
available  approximately  one  million  centimeters  annually  after  that  date 
through  fractionation  of  plasma  derived  from  blood  that  becomes  out- 
dated or  otherwise  not  suitable  for  use  as  whole  blood  in  its  civilian  pro- 


Everyone's  help  is  needed  to  support  the  Red  Cross  in  its  campaign 
to  accomplish  its  tasks  which  "are  almost  overwhelming  in  their  magni- 
tude todav." 

slueen  of  slueens 

Gene  RomoJo 

You,  who  rule  the  realm  of  home 
By  patience,  love,  and  piety, 
Wear  the  crown  of  womanhood 
With  loyal  grace  most  regally; 
Of  all  who  reign  upon  the  earth, 
You  are  queen  of  queens  in  \crity. 

Page   167 

^ixtij    LJears  J/Tgo 


Kxcerpts  F'roni  the  Woman's  Exponent,  March   i,  and  March   15,   1894 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  thi: 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

A  PARTY  FOR  JANE  S.  RICHARDS:  One  of  the  most  pleasant  evenings  of 
the  season  was  spent  at  the  residence  of  Apostle  Franklin  D.  Richards  January  21st, 
1894,  it  being  the  71st  Anniversary  of  the  birth  of  the  Apostle's  beloved  wife  and  our 
esteemed  friend,  Jane  S.  Richards.  At  7:30  p.m.  their  spacious  rooms  were  crowded 
with  smiling  faces,  each  one  being  anxious  to  extend  congratulations  and  heartfelt 
wishes  for  many  happy  returns  of  the  day  ....  The  amiable  lady  was  taken  by  storm; 
shaken  and  embraced  without  consent.  No  mercy  was  shown,  everyone  seeming  to 
think  they  had  a  perfect  right  to  a  birthday  kiss  and  a  shake  of  the  dear  hand  .... 

— E.  B.  W. 


But  after  the  strife  and  the  weary  tussle, 
When  life  is  done,  and  she  lies  at  rest, 
The  nation's  brain  and  heart  and  muscle — 
Her  sons  and  daughters — shall  call  her  blest; 
And  I  think  the  sweetest  joy  of  heaven. 
The  rarest  bliss  of  eternal  life, 
And  the  fairest  crown  of  all  will  be  given 
Unto  the  wayworn  farmer's  wife  .... 

— Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox 

A  PLEA  FOR  MORE  KINDNESS  AMONG  WOMEN:  To  every  woman  whose 
eyes  these  words  may  reach,  I  would  say:  Be  kind  to  your  own  sex.  Would  that  my 
voice  could  reach  the  farthest  ends  of  the  earth  when  I  write  ''Women  why  so  unkind 
to  each  other?"  We  see  it  every  day  in  every  position  and  avenue  of  life — on  the 
street,  in  the  stores,  on  the  cars  and  even  in  the  Churches  ....  I  tell  you  my  Sister 
Woman  it  is  not  the  opposite  sex  whose  words  slash  us,  it  is  our  own  petty  feelings 
and  glib  tongues  ....  And  shall  we  not  try  to  be  more  loving,  more  charitable?  We 
are  made  of  one  clay,  children  of  one  Father,  with  common  hopes  and  aspirations. 

— Alta  Witbeck 

DEATH  OF  A  GREAT  ACTRESS:  Mme.  Elise  Hwasser,  who  died  recently,  was 
for  forty  years  the  greatest  Swedish  actress.  Mme.  Hwasser  delineated  the  heroines  in 
Ibsen's  dramas,  and  also  played  the  leading  Shakesperian  roles.  She  retired  to  private 
life  in  1888.  —Selected 

LAKE  CITY:  President  M.  I.  Home,  presiding  .  .  .  spoke  of  a  Psalm  of  David, 
which  speaks  of  the  people  coming  to  a  wilderness,  of  the  many  blessings  here  re- 
ceived. President  Zina  D.  H.  Young  said,  "Faithfulness  to  the  gospel  will  make  men 
and  women  free."  Spoke  of  the  temple,  said  every  stone  is  a  freewill  offering  of  the 
saints.  "Think  of  it,  sisters,  a  temple  where  God  and  heavenly  beings  can  come.  Think 
of  our  young  ladies,  hear  them  speak  and  testify  .  .  .  full  of  the  Gospel,  full  of  intelli- 
gence." — Lydia  D.  Alder,  Act.  See. 

Page  168 

Woman's  Sphere 

Ramona  W.  Cannon 

pOLLOWING  are   some  of  the 
highhghts  of  the  past  year  1953, 
of  particular  interest  and  concern  to 

Forty-four  out  of  forty-eight  states 
have  women  legislators. 

According  to  the  Metropolitan 
Life  Insurance  Company,  the  mar- 
riage rate  in  the  United  States  for 
1953  fell  to  the  lowest  point  in 
twenty  years.  However,  the  rate  of 
live  births  was  higher  than  ever  be- 
fore in  our  country. 

Scotland's  Earl  of  Home  rebuked 
working  mothers  for  the  increased 
rate  of  juvenile  delinquency. 

According  to  a  ''Study  in  Human 
Starvation,"  two  thirds  of  the  world 
has  to  subsist  on  a  deficient  diet;  yet 
there  is  plenty  of  food  in  the  world 
for  all. 

A  CCORDING  to  a  study  of  1303 
women  workers  by  the  Wom- 
en's Bureau  of  the  Department  of 
Labor,  those  of  fifty  years  and  older 
had  fewer  absences  because  of  ill- 
ness than  any  other  group. 

pROVO-born  lieutenant  governor 
of  California,  Goodwin  Knight, 
became  governor  when  the  ex-gov- 
ernor, Earl  Warren,  assumed  the 
duties  of  Chief  Justice  of  the  Su- 
preme Court  of  the  United  States. 
Since  he  is  a  widower,  heavy  social 

responsibilities  will  rest  upon  his 
two  daughters,  Marilyn,  twenty-six, 
(Mrs.  Robert  Eaton)  and  Carolyn, 
twenty,  still  attending  college. 

jyjRS.  MARCUS  (Caroline  Jo- 
sephine Ballantyne)  FARR, 
ninety-two,  died  in  January.  She 
was  the  last  surviving  member  of 
the  family  of  Richard  Ballantyne, 
organizer  of  the  Sunday  Schools  of 
the  Church. 

gIRTHDAY  congratulations  arc 
extended  to  Mrs.  Melissa  Ann 
Wells  Dial  of  Willard,  Utah,  nine- 
ty-eight, Mrs.  Roxie  Cutright,  Boise, 
Idaho,  ninety-three;  Mrs.  Nan  S. 
Richardson  and  Mrs.  Margaret  Ho- 
mer Earl,  Salt  Lake  City,  ninety- 
two;  Karen  Petersen  Andersen, 
Sandy,  Utah,  ninety-one;  and  Mrs. 
Ann  Eliza  Allen  Coombs  of  Center- 
ville,  ninety. 

won  a  trip  to  the  United 
States  and  Canada  for  capturing  the 
title  of  Great  Britain's  ''Perfect  Sec- 
retary." She  says  an  ideal  secretary 
should  have  a  pleasing  appearance 
and  a  personality  which  combines 
efficiency  with  tact  and  warmth; 
also  a  retentive  memory  for  faces, 
facts,  and  appointments  important 
to  her  employer. 

Page  169 


VOL.  41 

MARCH  1954 

NO.  3 

cJhe  JLifehlood  of  uXeuef  Societii 

'T^HE  gospel  opens  to  man  the 
portals  of  eternal  life;  and  in 
the  gospel  plan  each  individual  has 
opportunities  offered  to  him,  the  ac- 
complishment of  which  will  help 
him  gain  eternal  life  for  himself. 

When  the  gospel  was  not  on  the 
earth,  woman,  in  the  eyes  of  law 
became  a  mere  chattel.  With  the 
restoration  of  the  gospel  in  1830,  she 
was  recognized  again  in  her  rightful 
position,  and  less  than  twelve  years 
later,  the  Prophet  Joseph  Smith 
turned  the  key  in  her  behalf  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  and  promised 
that  knowledge  and  intelligence 
should  flow  down  from  that  time 

In  March  1842,  in  commenting 
on  the  establishment  of  Relief  So- 
ciety, the  Prophet  wrote  in  his  his- 
tory: ''Our  women  have  always  been 
signalized  for  their  acts  of  benevo- 
lence and  kindness;  but  the  cruel 
usage  that  they  received  from  the 
barbarians  of  Missouri,  has  hitherto 
prevented  their  extending  the  hand 
of  charity  in  a  conspicuous  manner; 
yet  in  the  midst  of  their  persecution, 
when  the  bread  has  been  torn  from 
their  helpless  offspring  by  their  cruel 
oppressors,  they  have  always  been 
ready  to  open  their  doors  to  the 
weary  traveler,  to  divide  their  scant 
pittance  with  the  hungry,  and  from 
their  robbed  and  impoverished  ward- 
robes, to  divide  with  the  more  needy 
and  destitute;  and  now  that  they  are 
living  upon  a  more  genial  soil,  and 
among  a  less  barbarous  people,  and 
possess  facilities  that  they  have  not 

Page  170 

heretofore  enjoyed,  we  feel  con- 
vinced that  with  their  concentrated 
efforts,  the  condition  of  the  suffer- 
ing poor,  of  the  stranger  and  the 
fatherless  will  be  ameliorated"  (D. 
H.  CIV,  pp.  567-568). 

The  great  majority  of  Relief  So- 
ciety members  today  live  "upon  a 
more  genial  soil,"  and  the  conditions 
have  resulted  in  greatly  ameliorating 
the  suffering  of  the  unfortunate. 
Countless  are  the  acts  of  unselfish 
devotion  of  these  Relief  Society 

But  as  the  one  hundred  twelfth 
anniversary  of  the  Relief  Society  is 
observed  on  March  17,  1954,  let  a 
prayer  be  voiced,  silent  or  vocal,  for 
the  plight  of  Relief  Society  sisters 
who  today  are  living  under  condi- 
tions reminiscent  of  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  suffering  of  the  saints 
in  Missouri. 

In  these  days  bread  has  been  torn 
from  helpless  offspring;  wardrobes 
have  been  robbed  and  impoverished 
so  that  no  coverings  remain  to  en- 
fold the  dead  or  the  newborn;  the 
old  are  left  to  die;  the  young  are 
taken  from  their  mothers  for  hours 
daily  so  mothers  can  leave  home  to 
do  the  work  of  men  side  by  side 
with  men. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  persecution,  re- 
ports reach  the  general  board  tell- 
ing of  the  unnumbered  acts  of 
heroism— "the  concentrated  efforts" 
performed  by  the  sisters  of  Relief 
Society  under  such  cruel  usage.  At 
the  peril  of  imprisonment  and 
death.  Relief  Society  sisters  perform 


the  tasks  for  which  Relief  Society  home  life  and  richer  living.  The  life- 
was  divinely  established.  And  they  blood  of  Relief  Society  is  the  solicit- 
will  be  rewarded  according  to  the  ous,  loving  action  which  flows  from 
words  of  the  Savior:  "Inasmuch  as  the  individual  member  to  a  person 
ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  in  distress,  either  material  or  spiritual 
of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  distress;  and  these  individual  streams 
it  unto  me.  of  mercy,  concentrated,  bring  life  to 
The  heartblood  of  Relief  Society  the  whole  body  of  Relief  Society  en- 
is  not  its  cultural  and  homemaking  circhng  the  globe, 
activities,  vital  as  thev  are  to  better  — M.  C.  S. 

uielief  Society 

Elsie  Scott 

In  every  woman's  heart  there  hes  enshrined 

The  need  to  love  and  help  mankind. 

And  surely  we  the  women  of  this  latter  day 

Are  doubly  blessed,  for  God  has  shown  the  way 

And  through  his  chosen  servants  here  on  earth 

His  voice  is  heard. 

He  guides,  directs  in  everything  we  do — 

The  teachers,  visiting  homes,  taking  a  message  tnic 

The  charity  that  faileth  not. 

To  help  the  sick,  the  sad,  and  all  who  need. 

And  while  we  do  this  work 

The  Lord  is  waiting,  quick  to  bless 

That  we  may  gain  a  greater  happiness. 

jTiinoancing  the  Special  J/Lpnl  Short  Story  SJssue 

'pHE  April  1954  issue  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  will  be  the  special 
short  story  number,  with  four  outstanding  stories  being  presented. 
Look  for  these  stories  in  April: 

'The  Best  Years  of  Her  Life,"  by  Pansye  H.  Powell 
"What  It  Takes,"  by  Kay  Islaub 
"Second  Best,"  by  Blanche  Sutherland 
"The  Part-Time  Heart,"  by  Hannah  Smith 


fey rganizat tons  and  LKeorganizations  of  Q!>take 
ana    ll Lission  Uxeuef  Societies  for  ig^S 








North  Pocatello 
North  Tooele 
Salmon  River 


Foimeih  Part  of  Appointed  President       Date  Appointed 


East  Central  States 
East  German 

Great  Lakes 
Spanish  -American 


West  Central  States 

VN^est  German 

Page  172 

West  Central  States 

Lethbridge  and  East 

Lethbridge  Stakes 
Pioneer  Stake 


Northern  California 

North  Davis  Stake 
Pocatello  Stake 
Tooele  Stake 
Lost  River  Stake 

Gretta  L.  Karren 

Freda  Kenney 

Mabel  H.  Miller 
Allene  Bremer 

Sadie  Ollorton  Clark 

Mae  Belle  Nielson 

Oma  E.  Wilcox 
Bertha  M.  Pieper 
Leona  P.  Boyce 
Elizabeth  G.  Hoggan 

June  28,  1953 

November  15,  1953 

March  1,  1953 
October   18,   1953 

October  11,  1953 

March  22,  1953 

January  25,  1953 
June  21,  1953 
March  29,  1953 
October  18,  1953 


Released  President       Appointed  President       Date  Appointed 

Mary  P.  Howells 
Hazel  M.  Robertson 

Edna  H.  Matheson 
Lena  W.  Glaus 

Beth  C.  Woolf 
Ella  C.  Burton 
Ethel  L.  Mauss 
Kate  B.  Mecham 
Ivie  Huish  Jones 

Vilate  B.  Pearce 
Leone  R.  Bowring 
Reta  F.  Broadbent 

Luella  W.  Cannon 

Lorene  M.  Sorensen 
Mission  Closed, 
Transferred  to 
San  Francisco  Stake 
Adriana  M.  Zappey 
Mary  Ethel  E. 

Rachael  L.  Lee 
Florence  H.  Richards 
Hazel  M.  Robertson 
Jennie  S.  R.  Bowman 
EflFie  Nina  N. 

Frankie  G.  Orton 
Phyllis  D.  Smith 
Marteal  W.  Hend 

Bernice  O.  Dyer 

October  6,  1953 
December  31,  1952 

October  8,  1953 
October  20,  1953 

June  27,  1953 
June  11,  1953 
September  10,  1953 
June  18,  1953 
December  4,  1953 

February  6,  1953 
November  20,  1953 
November  19,  1953 

October   29,   1953 









East  Lethbridge 





Idaho  Falls 


Long  Beach 
Mill  Creek 

Monument  Park 

North  Carbon 

North  Davis 

North  Weber 





South  Idaho  Falls 

South  Sanpete 





West  Utah 



Zion  Park 

Rekased  President       Appointed  President       Date  Appointed 

Phylis  S.  Warr 
Elna  P.  Haymond 
Ruth  P.  Holt 
Afton  P.  Parry 
Edith  Y.  Harris 

Fern  R.  Laycock 
Winniefred  S. 
Ined  N.  Fryer 
Geraldine  Terry 
Rose  Burner 
Mildred  O.  Norman 
Mabel  J.  Hansen 
Vera  Deane  Black- 
Oma  E.  Wilcox 
Amelia  P.  Johansen 
LaNola  C.  Driggs 
Nina  L.  Riley 
Florence  N. 
Minnie  E.  Anderson 
Annie  Parker 
Oma  E.  Wilcox 
Vera  H.  Sorensen 
Edna  S.  Hatch 
Vera  Y.  Allen 
Lena  Oxborrow 
Ida  S.  Hendrickson 
Edna  J.  Kindred 
Leona  F.  Wintch 
Leona  P.  Boyce 
Nan  A.  Lindsay 
Mary  A.  Hansen 
Violet  D.  Olpin 
Rose  Goates 
Elva  O.  Swensen 
Ida  L.  Allen 
Hilda  Bringhurst 

Bernice  Thompson 
Mary  R.  Young 
Rowena  J.  Warr 
Claire  B.  Jones 
Elizabeth  Evans 

Lucile  G.  Williams 

Matilda  B.  Gilbert 
JennaVee  Hall 
Ahene  N.  Bloxham 
Rhoda  Thorpe 
Nannah  C.  Stokes 
Elsie  J.   Brinkerhoff 

Faun  L.  Reynolds 
Fern  R.  Laycock 
Verna  A.  Hunter 
Lenore  G.  Merrill 
Mary  M.  Wright 

Reba  O.  Carling 
LaPreal  Richards 
Lavora  S.  Wood 
Amanda  B.  Hancock 
Bertrude  S.  Mitchell 
Julia  N.  Barg 
Veda  F.  Moss 
Jessie  S.  Baldwin 
lone  J.  Simpson 
Zella  C.  Christensen 
Rose  L.  Moscon 
Mai  B.  Oveson 
Martha  H.  Bleak 
Ruth  Mae  Witt 
Loleta  W.  Dixon 
Ida  M.  Swensen 
Helen  M.  Stock 
Margie  D.  Barber 

April  19,  1953 
July  6,  1953 
September  6,  1953 
May  10,  1953 
September  6,  1953 

November  15,  1953 
May  3,  1953 

August  16,  1953 
September  20, 1953 
July  19,  1953 
August  9,  1953 
August  16,  1953 
February  22,  1953 

August  9,  1953 
November  15,  1953 
May  10,  1953 
May  3,  1953 
April  12,  1953 

August  8,  1953 
August  30,  1953 
January  25,  1953 
February  23,  1953 
May  3,  1953 
March  1,  1953 
August  17,  1953 
March  15,  1953 
May  17,  1953 
July  12,  1953 
March  29,  1953 
July  26,  1953 
July  2,  1953 
February  22,  1953 
May  31,  1953 
June  28,  1953 
July  12,  1953 
January  11,  19^3 


Grace  Barker  Wilson 

A  sudden  silence  always  falls  with  dark 
Upon  the  desert  where  the  daytime  wind 
Blows  noisily  through  sagebrush  and  mesqnite 
In  a  strange  dissonance  of  music,  stark 
And  urgent.  Night  comes  down,  soft-moccasined, 
And  makes  a  muted  harmony  complete. 


Don  Knight 


(bunnse  on   (^liff  lliountain 

Gertrude  T.  Kovan 

Between  two  mighty  mountains 
An  ancient  cliff  towers  high. 
Its  dim  peaks  and  sharp  edges, 
Reach  far  into  the  sky. 

When  night  comes,  first  ascending 
Long  valleys  far  below, 
Sometimes  the  light  still  Hngers, 
A  faint,  rose-colored  glow. 

But  ohl  to  watch  Cliff  Mountain 

In  the  bleak  and  early  dawn 

As  the  first,  faint  tints  of  sunrise 

Break  through  mists  of  darkness  gone! 

I  watch  this  magic  stirring 

Across  each  crevassed  peak. 

And  I  know  that  higher  than  Cliff  Mountain 

Are  the  answers  that  I  seek. 

Page  174 


Mildred  Garrett  Enos 

4  4-1  ^  AIL,  Mommie/'  Kathie's 
I  y  I  blond  braids  gleamed  as 
she  laid  the  packet  of 
mail  on  the  table. 

Looking  down,  Beth  saw  a  yel- 
low envelope  protruding  from  un- 
der a  magazine.  Her  heart  skipped 
a  beat.  Telegrams  were  few  here 
at  Twin  Knolls  Ranch.  Her  hand 
trembled  as  she  ripped  it  open,  her 
throat  was  dry. 

At  first  disbelief,  then  relief  and 
joy  filled  her  being. 

''Kathie!"  she  swept  her  daughter 
into  her  arms  and  kissed  her  sound- 
ly. "Margaret  Marie  is  coming! 
She's  coming  here  to  visit  us!" 

She  swung  Kathie  around  in  a  lit- 
tle dance,  knocking  the  butter  pad- 
dle to  the  floor.  And  then,  because 
the  words  were  joyful  to  her  tongue, 
she  repeated,  ''Margaret  Marie  is 

**Is  she  my  grandma?"  Kathie 
asked  with  interest,  firmly  believing 
that  only  grandmas  and  grandpas 
were  occasions  of  such  joy. 

Beth  kissed  her  again,  laughing. 
''No,  pet,  she  isn't  anyone's  grand- 
ma." And  then  she  sobered.  "She's 
just  about  the  most  wonderful 
friend  I've  ever  had.  She  lives  in 
a  country  called  England  way  across 
the  ocean  in  a  great  wonderful 
house  just  filled  with  oil  paintings 
and  piles  of  silver  that  have  been 
in  her  family  for  generations."  Beth 
paused  for  a  moment,  remember- 
ing. "But  bad  times  came  to  her 
country,  and  Margaret  Marie  started 
teaching  to  help  out.  She  liked  it, 
so  she  still  teaches." 

Kathie  brightened.  School  was  a 
warm  subject  to  her.     "Can  I  play 

my  school  record  again,  Mommie?" 
she  asked.  "The  one  where  the 
teacher  has  school?" 

"Again?  Oh,  dear,  Kathie!"  And 
then  she  reconsidered.  "All  right, 
love,  all  the  way  through  two 

Kathie  scampered  away,  and  Beth 
picked  up  the  butter  paddle,  her 
words  to  Kathie  still  lingering  in  her 
mind.  Oil  paintings  and  piles  of 
silver.  She  looked  at  the  worn 
wooden  paddle  that  had  been  in 
her  own  family  for  years.  And  some 
of  the  joyful  anticipation  of  the 
coming  visit  began  to  seep  away. 
She  rinsed  the  paddle  under  the 
faucet  and  attacked  the  bowl  of  yel- 
low butter  vigorously,  a  thoughtful 
expression  on  her  face. 

Later,  with  Kathie  out  to  play  and 
the  baby  down  for  a  nap,  Beth 
escaped  to  the  back  bedroom  and 
pulled  her  big  trunk  out  of  the 
closet  and  dumped  the  contents  in 
the  middle  of  the  floor. 

Family  heirlooms!  She  began  to 
sort  them.  A  quilt  that  it  was  ru- 
mored had  been  Grandmother  Wil- 
son's pride  and  joy.  The  only  pret- 
ty thing  in  her  bare  little  home. 
Beth  sighed.  It  was  certainly  worn 
to  tatters  now,  as  were  the  yellowed 
baby  clothes.  There  was  a  frail 
book  of  poems,  a  cracked,  white 
crockery  tureen.  Truly,  the  west- 
ward-bound wagons  and  handcarts 
had  spared  no  room  for  family 

If  only  I  had  something,  Beth 
thought  desperately.  She  laid  her 
head  on  a  corner  of  the  trunk  while 
Great-Grandmother  Curtis'  voice 
came  back  to  her  .  .  . 

Page  175 



''And  there  I  was  with  my  moth- 
er's china  that  I  had  managed  to 
bring  all  the  way  across  the  ocean 
with  me.  And  Fred  said  it  was 
either  the  china,  or  the  box  of  seeds 
and  cuttings  couldn't  go  West,  so 
I  gave  the  china  to  a  neighbor  that 
had  been  right  kind  to  us.  She  gave 
me  a  side  of  bacon  and  a  bag  of 
white  pea  seed  for  it." 

Side  bacon  and  white  pea  seed! 
Beth  felt  like  crying  as  she  dumped 
the  stuff  back  into  the  trunk. 

CHE  had  devised  a  plan  of  sorts 
by  the  time  Kirby  came  home 
for  lunch,  and  so  intent  was  she  on 
it  that  she  missed  her  usual  pleas- 
ure in  his  comforting  masculine 

''Margaret  Marie  is  coming  for  a 
visit,  Kirby,"  she  told  him  as  he 
kissed  her. 

His  eyes  lighted  with  pleasure. 
"No!    When?" 

"Day  after  tomorrow." 

"How  did  she  manage?"  he 
asked  with  interest. 

"Exchange  teacher,"  Beth  replied. 
"She's  simply  thrilled.  Says  she  can 
visit  five  days  before  she'll  have  to 
assume  her  duties." 

"That's  fine,"  Kirby  said.  "Give 
you  girls  time  to  catch  up  on  the 
six  years  since  you  were  an  ex- 
change student  in  England."  He 
grinned.  "After  all,  since  then 
you've  acquired  a  husband,  a  five- 
year-old  daughter,  a  son  with  a  defi- 
nite will  of  his  own,  and  a  rundown, 
poorly  stocked  ranch,  with  a  view!" 

They  both  glanced  toward  the 
west  wall  of  the  dining  room. 
Through  the  wide  expanse  of  the 
newly  installed  window,  the  two 
peaks  of  Twin  Knolls  Mountain 
rose  in  silent  majesty  in  the  dis- 

But  somehow  it  didn't  look  quite 
as  wonderful  to  Beth  as  it  had  just 
yesterday.  Instead,  she  noted  with 
dissatisfaction  the  old  -  fashioned 
round  dining  table  set  for  lunch 
with  the  plain  white  plates  and  the 
dime-store  silver.  Only  it  wasn't 
silver.  Not  even  the  plated  kind. 
Just  plain,  stainless  steel. 

A  picture  of  the  dining  room  in 
Margaret  Marie's  house  rose  in  her 
mind.  Wide-beamed  ceiling,  pol- 
ished sideboard,  gleaming  silver. 
She  took  a  deep  breath  for  courage 
and  asked  urgently,  "Kirby,  remem- 
ber the  sterling  pattern  we  selected 
the  week  of  our  honeymoon?" 

"Sure  do,"  he  replied.  He  lifted 
a  lid  on  the  pot.  "What's  for 

Beth  swallowed  with  difficulty. 
She  had  a  wild  urge  to  dump  the 
pot,  bottom  up,  over  his  head. 

"Do  you  suppose,"  she  asked  in 
an  even  voice,  "we  could  afford  to 
start  us  a  set  now?"  At  the  look  on 
his  face  she  added  rapidly,  "Just  the 
most  basic  pieces,  Kirby,  knives  and 
forks  and  spoons!" 

He  sensed  the  urgency  in  her 
voice  and  looked  at  her  sharply. 
"Beth,"  he  said  gently  as  he  slipped 
an  arm  around  her  waist.  She  felt 
his  regret  even  before  he  finished. 
"The  big  window  and  the  drapes 
just  about  did  it  for  us  till  we  har- 
vest again  next  year." 

Something  in  her  heart  refused 
defeat.  ''Are  we  always  that  broke?" 
she  asked  in  bitter  rebellion,  and 
hated  herself  for  the  hurt  in  his 

"Yes,"  he  answered  briefly. 
OETH  swallowed  again.     "There 
are  other  ways,"  she  said  des- 
perately,   "monthly    payments    are 
available  on  items  of  that  sort!" 


"We're  just  getting  started, 
Beth,"  he  rephed  quietly.  "There 
are  so  many  things.  The  children 
to  provide  for,  stock  to  feed,  pay- 
ments on  the  truck." 

She  turned  away  in  defeat.  But 
the  hurt  and  the  desire  stayed  with 
her  all  afternoon,  and  the  next  day. 
As  she  moved  about  her  self  imposed 
tasks,  she  kept  seemg  the  house 
through  Margaret's  eyes  as  she 
waxed  and  polished  and  baked. 
And,  added  to  that,  was  the  burden 
of  her  coolness  to  Kirby. 

He  offered  to  drive  her  to  the 
train  two  hours  early  next  day. 
"Give  you  time  to  shop  for  any 
extras  you  might  need  in  the  way 
of  food,"  he  said. 

Beth  was  grateful  but  unappeased. 
He's  trying  to  make  it  up  to  me, 
she  thought  sadly,  but  he  just 
doesn't  understand! 

In  front  of  the  grocery  he  op- 
ened the  door  for  her.  'Til  ride 
the  children  while  you  shop,"  he 
said,  "pick  you  up  in  plenty  of 

"All  right,  Kirby,"  she  said. 
Next  door  to  the  grocery  was  a 
jewelry  store.  In  spite  of  herself, 
Beth's  eyes  turned  to  the  window  as 
she  passed.  A  display  of  silver, 
shiningly  beautiful,  met  her  gaze. 
It  won't  hurt  just  to  look,  she 
told  herself  desperately,  and  a  mo- 
ment later  she  stood  before  the  long 
glass  case. 

"Isn't  it  beautiful?"  the  woman 
clerk  asked,  smiling  at  her. 

"Yes,"  Beth  replied.  She  wet  her 
lips.  "Could  I  see  that  pattern 

The  clerk  laid  it  before  her.  The 
knives  and  forks,  the  iced  beverage 
spoons,  the  salad  forks,  and  serving 
pieces.    A  dazzling  assortment. 


Beth  looked  at  the  pieces  hung- 
rily, like  a  child  with  her  nose  to 
a  window,  she  thought. 

"It's  so  easy  to  own,"  the  clerk 
encouraged,  "nine  or  ten  dollars  a 
month  is  all." 

Beth  hesitated.  "I'm  not  sure  m\ 
husband  would  approve,"  she  stam- 

"Some  women  even  manage  out 
of  their  grocery  allowance,"  the 
woman  said,  watching  her. 

Beth  looked  at  the  pieces  again. 
Nine  or  ten  dollars  a  month,  she 
thought.    Could  I  manage  it? 

And  then  she  went  cold  with 
horror.  What  am  I  considering? 
she  thought  frantically.  She 
dropped  the  piece  she  was  holding. 
"My  husband  and  I  have  to  approve 
these  things  together,"  she  said 
firmly,  and,  turning,  she  fled  .... 

nPHE  house  has  never  looked  so 
sad  and  neglected,  Beth  thought 
as  they  reached  home.  Odd  that  she 
had  been  able  to  see  so  many  possi- 
bilities in  the  place  when  she  and 
Kirby  had  first  looked  at  it. 

The  first  flush  of  young  love,  she 
thought,  with  the  back  of  her  mind 
as  she  took  Margaret  Marie's  wraps. 

"Kirby  will  bring  your  bags,"  she 
said,  "and  you  can  clean  up.  In 
the  meantime  I'll  fix  us  a  tray.  I 
know  you  must  be  starved!" 

"Oh,  Mommie!"  Kathie  cried, 
"I  want  Margaret  Marie  to  listen  to 
my  school  record!" 

"Later,  Kathie,"  Beth  said,  and 
escaped  to  the  kitchen. 

She  did  a  beautiful  job  with  the 
tray.  Embroidered  napkins,  hot 
buns,  and  a  pat  of  butter,  white- 
clover  honey,  and  slices  of  cheese, 
a  large  bowl  of  fruit.  At  least  the 
food    is    bountiful,    she    thought. 


Vaguely  she  heard  the  record  player  skies,  for  amber  waves  of  grain,  for 

start  playing  Kathie's  school  record,  purple  mountain  majesties  above  the 

She  picked  up  the  finished  tray  fruited  plain  .  .  .  ." 
and  started  for  the  dining  room.  At  And  there  it  was  before  Beth's 
the  door  she  stopped.  Margaret  stinging  eyes,  the  heritage  her  peo- 
Marie  was  standing  in  front  of  the  pie  had  left  her!  She  bowed  her 
new  window  looking  outward.  The  head.  'Torgive  me,"  she  whispered, 
valley  stretched  away  westward  in  a  ''forgive  me!  I  forgot  that  a  herit- 
panorama  of  contrast.  Harvested  age  isn't  always  inside  the  house!" 
fields,  a  grazing  flock  of  sheep,  roll-  The  door  opened  and  Kirby  came 
ing  orchard  slopes,  and  the  tall  spire  in.  Across  the  room  his  eyes  met 
of  the  ward  church  reaching  up-  Beth's.  She  looked  back  until  the 
ward  toward  the  infinite.  And  tlie  look  became  one  of  their  very  spec- 
whole  overshadowed  by  the  tower-  ial  ones.  And  her  heart  relaxed, 
ing  mountain  peaks  ....  There  would  never  have  to  be  fur- 
In  the  background  Kathie's  record  ther  words,  or  explanations, 
reached  the  second  half:  "And  now.  She  moved  forward  again  as  the 
children,"  said  the  recorded  voice,  song  ended,  and  Margaret  Marie 
'we  will  all  stand  and  sing."  And  the  turned  from  the  window,  her  own 
childish  voices  began  the  song  that  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "My  dear, 
is  the  special  property  of  every  niy  dear!"  she  said.  And  reaching 
country-loving  American.  out  she  took  the  heavily  laden  tray 
".  .  .  Oh,  beautiful  for  spacious  from  Beth's  proud  hands. 

c/or   Vi/mch  the  ofirst   Viyas    1 1  Lade 

Christie  Lund  Coles 

The  fruit-fair  flesh  nature  had  clothed  her  in, 
Delicate  as  glass,  supple  to  the  touch, 
Has  wrinkled  with  the  years,  grown  parchment  thin, 
And  withered  as  an  apple  dried  too  much. 
Her  step  so  laughter-quick,  her  hand  so  firm. 
Are  slowed  and  weakened  by  the  rushing  tide 
Of  years  that  moved  and  passed,  serving  their  term, 
Leaving  her  with  the  age  her  heart  denied, 
And  her  eyes,  too,  that  kept  light  from  flame 
Of  what  she  was  once,  beautiful  and  young. 
Though  now,  more  than  before,  they  speak  a  part 
Of  her  too  long,  too  thoughtlessly  unsung. 
Now,  when  vanity  and  youth's  mask  are  gone, 
We  see  her  spirit's  proud,  clear  echelon. 

Old  Quilts 

Veima  Mackay  PauJ 

SOMEONE   has   said   that  the  wooden    pegs.     They    built    huge 

American  quilt  can  be  a  docu-  outdoor  ovens  for  baking  and  in- 

ment  of  American  life    A  list  door  fireplaces  of  stone  and  mud. 

1  ^-^^'J^'r^   ^^  T"^"'   1^"!''  They  built  their  own  wagons  and 

tn^nf  TJ^^-           '""'f    *^'  sleds  and  made  their  harnesses  from 

rend    of    the    times     socially,    re-  ^he  leather  of  animals.     They  not 

Tf?;       ,  r^^'r"^-  •        .       .  ^-ly   -^de   everything   they  ^used, 

Be  ore    artistic    designing    found  they  used  everything  they  made, 

its    place   m   quiltmaking,   quiJtmg  .L,         ,       ^        ^         .  ,  i-  •,     , 

Itself  was  a  necessity,  and  necessity  .  Where  homes  were  established 

always  has  been  the  mother  of  in-  ^Y  ""^^    1^'^ V  u^  \™  ^^^K""^ 

vention.  For  centuries,  the  people  '*,™P5  ^^^  underbrush,  and  they 

of   the   cold   countries   of   Siberia,  P^°^'^  ^"^  P^'"*'^  ^^^''  ^^^P^' 

Manchuria,    Northern    Tibet,    and  ^^e  women  dug  from  their  own 

other  lands  of  similar  climate,  wore  ^^^^  ^^^Y  ^"^  ^^^^  pottery,  milk 

padded  clothing  for  warmth.  Coarse  P^^^'  ^^^^^^  ^"^  ^^^"  crocks,  and 

wool  from  the  animals  was  tied  be-  ^^^^^  i^S^-     ^^ey  built  kilns  and 

tween    layers   of   cloth   and    made  ^^^^  *^^|^  w^^^- 

into  clothing.    From  this  primitive  ^11  this— and  families  too!  Large 

quilting,    de\eloped     through    the  families,    and    they    clothed    them 

ages,     we     have     taken-for-granted  with  cloth  from  their  own  looms 

quilted  articles  used  in  every  home  ^^d    spinning    wheels,    and    shod 

and  establishment  today.  them  with  hides  of  animals.     It  is 

Centuries  ago,  the  Crusaders  re-  because  they  endured  great  hard- 
turned  from  the  Far  East  with  elab-  ships  and  made  untold  sacrifices, 
orate  specimens  of  needlework,  ap-  our  courageous  forefathers  were 
plique,  embroidery,  and  quilting,  able  to  establish  a  foothold  in  a 
Soon  it  began  to  appear  in  outer  new  world  and  lay  the  foundation 
finery,  royal  furnishings,  and  church  for  our  present-day  security  and 
vestments.  happiness. 

It  was,  however,  when  the  Pil-  Parties  were  few  in  the  old  days, 
grims,  beginning  a  fresh  life  in  a  They  grew  out  of  necessary  gather- 
new  country,  were  faced  with  the  ings,  such  as  a  barn  raising,  making 
problem  of  producing  everything  apple  butter,  or  a  quilting  party, 
they  owned,  that  the  art  of  bed-  When  a  farmer  needed  a  barn  or 
quilt-making  really  began.  a  new  house,  he  assembled  his  ma- 

They  literally  carved  their  homes  terials  bit  by  bit.  On  a  fixed  day, 

out  of  the  forest.    Farm  lands  were  his  neighbors  and  friends  came  to 

cleared  of  stones,  which  were  used  help  him  build  the  structure,  and 

to    build    barns    and    houses,    and  it  was  usually  finished  by  nightfall, 

piled  along  border  lines  for  fences.  They  brought  their  whole  families; 

They  built  furniture  from  the  tim-  little  girls  minded  the  babies,  little 

ber,  which  was  also  their  only  fuel,  boys  worked  with  their  elders.    No 

Having   no   iron    nails,    they   used  one  was  idle. 

Page  179 



The  families  brought  with  them 
enormous  baskets  of  food,  and  the 
women  spread  long  tables  and 
cooked  hot  food  over  the  fires. 
These  were  bright  days  in  the  some- 
what drab  lives  of  the  women,  and 
they  made  the  most  of  the  occasion. 
They  imparted  news  and  friendly 
gossip  and  received  it  in  return. 
Conversation  ran  from  personal 
items  to  new  dyes  for  wool  and  new 
style  rag  rugs.  They  exchanged 
recipes  and  home  remedies  for  the 
sick.  Herbs  and  brews  played  an 
important  part  in  their  lives,  and 
they  often  exchanged  herbs  from 
their  gardens  as  well  as  flower  seeds. 

npHE  young  girls  exchanged  patch- 
es of  calico  and  lovely  paisley, 
or  chintzes  of  figured  brown  and 
pink  and  minutely  flowered  prints. 
Few  materials  of  this  kind  had 
found  their  way  to  America,  and 
every  inch  was  treasured.  They  also 
exchanged  finished  squares  for 
quilts,  either  pieced  or  appliqued, 
and  many  cross-stitched  their  names 
and  the  date  on  their  patches. 
When  enough  were  exchanged 
(usually  twenty-five)  a  hopeful 
young  lady  could  sew  her  patches 
together.  At  the  next  quilting  bee, 
she  could  have  her  "top"  quilted, 
and  when  it  was  completed,  she 
proudly  laid  it  in  her  dower  chest. 
It  would  be  a  treasured  keepsake, 
for  each  patch  had  been  designed 
and  stitched  by  the  hands  of  a  lov- 
ing friend. 

All  quilts  were  not  so  beautifully 
conceived.  It  was  before  the  day 
of  woven  blankets,  and  bedding  was 
a  dire  necessity.  All  old  pieces,  as 
well  as  new,  had  to  be  saved  for 
their  use.  Faded  material  was  dyed, 
and  the  wool  had  to  be  washed  and 

carded  by  hand,  and  laid  in  straight, 
neat  piles.  Never  was  a  scrap  of 
anything  wasted.  When  a  quilt 
was  worn  out,  it  was  re-covered, 
and  new  warmness  and  color  were 
added.  The  popularity  of  the  old 
''crazy  patch"  was  due  to  the  fact 
that  anything  of  any  size,  shape,  or 
material,  could  be  used.  The  irregu- 
larity of  patches  and  color  grew  ar- 
tistic and  soft,  as  the  maker  out- 
lined the  gay  patches  with  fancy 
featherstitching  and  embroidered 
birds  and  flowers  on  the  plainer 

Thus,  by  spinning  the  flax,  card- 
ing the  wool,  weaving  materials,  and 
making  quilts,  pioneer  women  cre- 
ated with  their  own-  hands  the 
beautiful  things  they  longed  for  in 
their  hearts. 

Quilts  are  of  two  principal  types, 
pieced  or  appliqued.  The  common- 
est are  the  pieced  or  patched,  be- 
cause one  can  utilize  scraps— and  the 
designing  of  only  one  patch  is 
necessary.  The  rest  are  repetitious. 

An  appliqued  quilt  is  more  elab- 
orate, and  requires  more  careful 
planning  for  color  and  design.  Each 
block  may  be  a  different  design, 
but  must  remain  in  balance.  Best 
of  all,  an  appliqued  quilt  allows  an 
expression  of  ideas  impossible  in  a 
pieced  one. 

r\F  all  the  quilts  I  have  had  the 
privilege  of  photographing  for 
magazines,  the  most  beautiful,  un- 
usual, and  elaborate  is  one  made  in 
1829  for  the  late  Reverend  Vinton 
of  Maryland.  It  is  now  in  the  pos- 
session of  his  great-great-grandson's 
family.  It  is  in  its  fifth  generation 
and  is  in  perfect  condition.  This 
quilt  deserves  special  comment. 




When  the  Reverend  Vinton  re- 
signed his  charge,  the  Ladies  Aid  or 
Women's  Society  of  the  church, 
presented  him  with  this  quilt.  Each 
patch  is  signed  with  the  maker's 
name,  and  the  entire  quilt  is  ap- 
pliqued  in  the  most  elaborate  de- 
signs. The  coloring  is  magnificent. 
The  center  block  is  his  church. 
Even  the  shades  and  brickwork  are 
appliqued.  The  tree  behind  the 
church  has  birds  in  its  branches. 
To  the  left  of  the  church,  is  a 
floral  arrangement  with  easily  eight 
shades  of  coloring.     A  finely  print- 

ed brown  material  was  used  for  the 
dove  which  holds  the  Holy  Bible. 
The  minister's  name  is  also  ap- 
pliqued on  the  book.  To  the  right 
of  the  church  is  a  patch  work  con- 
taining a  wreath  and  his  prayer  book. 
It,  too,  bears  his  name.  The  patch 
above  the  church  has  a  pleasing 
wreath  and  a  dove  of  peace,  while 
below  the  church  is  a  bowl  of  fruit. 
The  pears  are  yellow  and  cream,  the 
apple  red,  grapes  blue,  and  a  sec- 
ond bunch  of  something  is  red.  The 
object  that  resembles  a  football  is 
a  watermelon  with  a  slice  out.  The 



black  seeds  are  appliqued  on  the 
pink  surface.  To  the  right  of  that 
patch  is  another  made  up  of  symbols, 
possibly  of  his  lodge.  A  "seeing 
eye"  is  between  two  arrows.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  wreath  is  an 
hourglass,  above  it  an  arrow,  three 
rings,  and  something  else.  In  the 
center  of  the  wreath  is  a  shield, 
with  a  heart  on  which  is  an  open 
hand,  or  palm.  An  eagle  stands  on 
a  pedestal  facing  an  owl  perched 
on  seven  stars  and  a  crescent.  The 
right  half  of  this  wreath  is  of  brown 

acorns  and  small  green  oak  leaves, 
the  left  side  is  of  red  berries  and 
green  leaves.  Elaborate  plants, 
wreaths,  etc.,  make  up  the  rest  of 
the  quilt,  and  a  beautiful  border 
encompasses  the  entire  quilt.  It 
was  undoubtedly  used  on  a  large 
poster  bed,  for  it  measures  three 
yards  each  way. 

TN  the  Art  Institute  of  Chicago, 
is  a  magnificent  quilt  called  the 
Circuit  Rider's  Quilt,  made  some- 
where in  the  Midwest.    Entirely  in 




applique,  it  was  made,  in  1862,  for 
the  courageous  preacher  who  made 
the  one-hundred-mile  circuit  to  vis- 
it his  widely  scattered  parishoners 
in  six  communities.  Forty  women 
of  the  United  Brethren  Church 
made  the  forty-two  blocks,  only  five 
of  which  are  alike.  They  are  floral 
wreaths,  rose  clusters,  grapes^  tulips, 
ferns,  leaves,  berries,  and  geometric 
designs.  The  center  is  a  shield  of 
our  own  American  flag.  This  one 
quilt  alone  records  the  days  of  the 
traveling  minister  and  the  simple 
faith  of  the  country  people. 

A  very  old  popular  pattern  is 
shown  in  Plate  2.  It  was  made  over 
eighty  years  ago,  and  is  called  the 
Four  Winds,  and  sometimes  the 
Princess  Feather.  The  plumes  alter- 
nate in  color,  dark  green  and  dark 
red,  the  center  being  orange.  As 
often  happens,  one  swirl  was  laid 
out  in  the  opposite  direction  (up- 
per right)  and  probably  not  noticed 
until  too  late.  However,  it  is  not 
too  noticeable,  because  of  the  bril- 
liant coloring  and  the  fine  feather 

Plate  3  is  a  good  example  of  an 





early  pieced  quilt.  It  is  called  the 
Irish  Chain.  Only  two  colors  were 
used  with  white,  a  deep  figured  red 
for  the  center  block  throughout, 
and  a  figured  green  for  the  outer 
blocks.  The  quilting  is  in  very 
fine  squares  of  no  more  than  one 

Plate  4  is  an  example  of  beau- 
ty, skill,  and  fine  workmanship.  A 
figured  red  and  yellow  was  used 
for  the  center  of  each  tulip,  and 
solid  red  for  their  sides.  Solid 
green  was  used  for  the  leaves,  and 
border.      It    is   entirely   appliqued, 

and  the  quilting  is  in  squares  of  one 
half  inch.  Skill  was  required  in  ar- 
ranging the  pattern,  since  each 
motif  is  not  on  separate  squares 
that  could  be  sewn  together.  In 
this  case,  the  maker  appliqued  her 
pattern  on  nine  squares  of  white 
muslin,  each  eighteen  inches  square. 
Sewn  together,  it  made  a  piece  one 
and  one  half  yards  each  way.  She 
then  appliqued  the  four  inner  mo- 
tifs around  the  center  one  on  the 
muslin  already  sewn  together,  and 
"dovetailed"  her  patterns.  Twelve 
single   tulips,    facing    in,    were   ap- 



pliqued  around  and  completed  the 
pattern.  The  border  of  tuhps  and 
running  band  of  green  is  twelve  in- 
ches wide,  making  the  entire  quilt 
two  yards  and  six  inches  square. 
The  background  quilting  is  in  one- 
fourth  inch  squares,  and  the  tulips 
and  leaves  are  quilted  around.  On 
an  applique  quilt,  no  quilting 
should  be  on  any  of  the  pattern. 
Otherwise,  the  pattern  could  not 
stand  out. 

Plate  5  shows  a  one-hundred- 
year-old  quilt  of  four  patches,  each 
one  yard  square  with  a  six  inch 
border.  The  flowers  are  shaded 
from  shell  pink  to  turkey  red,  with 
green  leaves  and  stems. 

Plate  6  is  another  four-patch 
quilt,  with  a  red  strip  around  the 
border  to  match  the  solid  red  cen- 
ter of  each.  The  leaves  are  solid 
green.  The  quilting,  which  did  not 
photograph  well,  is  really  elabor- 

TT  is  interesting  in  old  quilts  to 
find  the  similarity  of  designs.  In 
Plate  1,  for  instance,  the  top  center 
block  is  very  similar  to  one  called  the 
eight-pointed    star.     In    the    same 



plate,  the  second  from  the  top  on 
the  left  is  exactly  like  the  one  in 
The  President's  Wreath.  It  has 
been  popular  for  the  past  hundred 

There  is  no  end  to  names  for 
quilts.  The  following  I  have  gath- 
ered from  country  sales,  museums, 
and  stories  on  quilts.  The  very 
same  may  have  different  names  in 
different  parts  of  the  country.  They 
include:  the  Log  Cabin,  the  Mill 
Wheel,  Princess  Feather,  Oak  Leaf 
and  Tulip,  Fox  and  Geese,  Hen 
and  Chickens,  Grandma's  Flower 
Garden,  Indian  Trail,  Barn  Raising, 
Variable  Star,  Evening  Star,  Star 
of  Bethlehem,  Pin  Wheel,  Bear's 
Paw,  World  Without  End,  Dutch- 
man's Puzzle,  Chimney  Sweep, 
Dolly  Madison  Star,  Rocky  Glen, 
Confederate  Rose,  Covered  Wag- 
on, Cross  and  Crown,  Jacob's  Coat, 
Rose  of  Sharon,  Rob  Peter  and  Pay 
Paul,  Doves  in  the  Window,  the 
Drunkard's  Path,  the  Wheel  of 
Fortune,  Double  Wedding  Ring, 
Soldiers  Return,  and  many,  many 

Wilderness  Road 

Willard  Luce 

TFIERE  are  many  little  roads 
in  Utah.  They  twist  among 
the  aspens  and  the  pine  and 
the  fir.  They  crawl  along  the  face 
of  the  mountains,  looking  down 
into  the  valleys  and  deserts.  They 
wind  through  the  sand,  among  the 
yucca  and  prickly  pear.  They  drop 
into  the  deep,  magnificent  gorge  of 
the  Colorado  River  and  creep  be- 
tween the  twisting  river  and  the  red 
sandstone  ledges  a  thousand  feet 

One  of  the  most  interesting  of 
these  is  the  Hite  road.  It  climbs 
the    plateaus     from    Richfield     on 

Highway  89  and  winds  down  into 
the  flame-colored  gorges.  Part  of 
this  road  is  so  new  that  it  is  not 
shown  on  many  maps.  Part  of  it  is 
very  old  and  traverses  ancient  In- 
dian trails.  Part  of  it  climbs  up  over 
8,000  feet,  where  the  heavy  snows 
keep  it  buried  until  late  spring.  Part 
of  it  drops  down  to  3,400  feet,  and 
crosses  the  Colorado  by  ferry  at 
Hite  in  the  upper  reaches  of  Glen 
Canyon  near  the  mouth  of  Tra- 
chyte Creek,  a  northern  tributary. 
Figs  and  pomegranates  and  other 
semi-tropical  fruits  arc  raised  here 
in  a  remote  and  sequestered  paradise. 

Willnrd  Luce 


Page  186 



Hite  is  the  best  known  ford,  and 
the  only  practical  crossing  for  auto- 
mobiles, along  that  lonely  and  peril- 
ous stretch  of  river  between  Navajo 
Bridge  over  Marble  Canyon  in 
northern  Arizona,  and  Moab  in 
eastern  Utah.  And,  although  far 
from  a  straight  line,  it  is  the  short- 
est distance  between  Capitol  Reef, 
near  Fruita,  and  the  Natural  Bridges 
National  Monument,  some  forty- 
seven  miles  from  Blanding  in  the 
southeastern  corner  of  Utah. 

According  to  Western  definition, 
a  reef  is  an  upthrust  area  with  a  cliff 
face;  and  that's  a  pretty  good  de- 
scription of  Capitol  Reef  National 
Monument.  The  roadway  follows 
along  the  base  of  the  craggy  reef, 
switching  back  and  forth  down  a 
dry  stream  bed.  It  climbs  up  past 
the  Chimney  Rock,  and  on  up  to 
the  edge  of  Mummy  Cliff;  then  it 
drops  back  down  again. 

At  the  bottom  is  Fruita,  a  small 
farming  community  in  the  heart  of 
the  Monument.  The  green  of  its 
fields  and  orchards  makes  a  sharp 
contrast  to  the  red  sandstone  ledges. 
In  spring  the  peach  and  cherry  and 
apricot  blossoms  offer  an  unforget- 
table sight  against  the  green  fields 
and  red  ledges. 

Six  miles  farther  on,  the  road 
enters  Capitol  Gorge.  Here  huge 
sandstone  chffs  rise  1200  feet  on 
either  side  of  the  chasm,  which 
twists  and  turns,  and  finally  squeez- 
es down  to  The  Narrows.  In  this 
shadowed  place  the  gorge  is  only 
eighteen  feet  wide,  but  the  ledges 
still  rise  a  thousand  feet  in  the  air. 
The  road  and  the  dry  stream  bed 
are  one  and  the  same,  an  excellent 
place  not  to  be  during  a  flash  flood! 

AT  Hanksville,  the  last  town  in 

this  wilderness,  the  road  turns 
south  for  several  miles  before  swing- 
ing back  towards  the  east  and  drop- 
ping down  into  North  Wash.  Down 
the  wash,  the  road  is  rough.  It 
crosses  and  recrosses  the  alkali-filled 
and  cottonwood-lined  watercourse. 
It  bounces  over  the  top  of  water- 
rounded  stones,  and  wiggles  through 
sand-filled  stretches.  And  always  it 
drops  lower  and  lower,  until  it 
finally  comes  out  onto  the  banks  of 
the  Colorado  River,  where  the  ele- 
vation is  only  3,400  feet. 

The  seven-mile  drive  downriver 
between  the  cliffs  and  the  stream  is 
a  breath-taking  experience,  with  the 
canyon  walls  swinging  in  to  crowd 
against  the  river,  then  retreating. 
The  willows  and  the  tamarisk  hug 
the  water's  edge,  while  the  desert 
primrose  and  prickly  pear  blossom 
on  the  rocky  hillsides.  It's  an  in- 
tensely colored  country,  a  rugged, 
contrasting  country. 

The  Hite  ferry  is  a  toll  ferry,  a 
wooden  barge  propelled  by  a  gaso- 
line engine.  The  great  river  at  flood 
tide  is  640  feet  across,  and  its  south- 
east brink  is  surmounted  on  the 
southeast  side  by  an  ancient  stone 
fortress,  standing  aloof  and  lonely 
above  the  river.  The  ferry,  in  use 
all  the  year  around,  has  been  oper- 
ated at  times  by  a  woman— Mrs. 
Arthur  Chaffin— an  expert  at  guid- 
ing the  heavy  barge  which  carries 
dozens  of  trucks  and  cars  across  the 
river  every  day. 

After  leaving  the  ferry  the  road 
climbs  upwards  again  and  crosses 
the  rugged  and  mysterious  White 
Canyon  country  forty-two  miles  to 
the  Natural  Bridges  National  Mon- 
ument. In  the  Monument  there 
are  three  large  and  picturesque  nat- 


ural  bridges  set  roughly  in  a  triangle,  for  the  Capitol  Building  in  Wash- 
three  miles  apart,  thus  making  a  ington,  D.  C. 
nine-mile  hike  in  order  to  see  them  ^^^^  ^^^  bridges  the  road  climbs 
all  Besides  the  bridges,  in  this  ^  ^^j  ^  the  strange  moun- 
lofty  chasm  country,  there  are  re-  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^le  Bear's  Ears, 
mote  and  protected  Indian  ruins,  ^^^  ^^  ^^^^  eu,  Mountain,  across 
ancient  petroglyphs,  and  wonderful  ^  ^^^^^^  ^^  Blanding  and  Utah 
scenery  majestic  in  its  loneliness  Highway  47 
and  isolation— reaches  of  rnckscape         &       ;  ^/• 

which  even  yet  have  not  been  com.  It's  a  good  dirt  road,  this  wilder- 

pletelv  explored  ^^ss  road,  but  one  not  to  be  taken 

The  Owachomo  natural  bridge  is  ^"  ^?^  v^eathtx.     It  is  best  in  any 

only  a  short  distance  from  the  road,  ^^^her  to  take  along  extra  water 

and  is  by  far  the  best  known  of  the  ^^^^^  bedding,  gas  and  patching  and 

three.     The    Sipapu,    however,    is  ^^P^";  materials  for  tires.     It  is  a 

larger  and  more  impressive,  reveal-  ^^^g^    ^^'^'^    I'^f^^  ^^*^  ^^"^^^^ 

ing  the  patient  work  of  winds  and  grandeur-a  road  full  of  adventure, 

water  over  the  long  centuries.     It  stark  beauty,   and   many   surprises, 

has  a  span  of  261  feet  and  arches  22  Respect  this  road  for  what  it  is, 

feet  above  the  canyon  floor.  There  and  you'll  have  a  once-in-a-lifetime 

is  enough  space  beneath  the  bridge  trip. 

Photograph  on  opposite  page:  The  Narrows,  Capitol  Gorge,  Capitol  Reef  National 
Monument,  Utah.    Photograph  by  Willard  Luce. 

»  ^  « 

Seen  Jtfter  cJkese  c/mngs 

(Verses  for  The  Relief  Society  Magazine) 
Rhea  M.  CarricI: 

Oh,  little  book,  within  your  cover  lies 
The  truths  of  heaven  bared  before  our  eyes. 
There  are  beauties  of  earth  and  of  the  skies; 
The  love  of  friends  and  happy  family  ties. 

Upon  each  page,  some  gracious,  helpful  thought — 
In  poetry  or  prose,  it  matters  not — 
God's  plan  to  build  a  perfect  life  is  taught; 
Nor  can  it  fail  when  his  advice  is  sought. 

Oh,  little  book,  a  clearer  vision  springs 

From  growth  in  knowledge  of  all  lovely  things. 

Until  the  very  heart  itself  takes  wings 

And,  merged  with  sister  hearts,  contentment  bring? 

Your  mission  to  the  wodd  has  just  begun. 
You  cannot  falter  till  the  race  is  run 
And  all  God's  children  have  become  as  one; 
Content,  at  last  to  say,  "Thy  will  be  done." 

My  Paradise — Cowslip  Hollow 

Emily  Wilkeison 

THE  sun  came  creeping  slowly  with  it  the  pungent  odor  of  sage- 
up  the  far  side  of  the  deep  brush  and  the  choking,  fine  dust 
blue  mountains  in  the  dis-  from  the  beating  of  trails  by  many 
tance,  filling  the  lowlands  with  mist  hard  hoofs.  I  hugged  my  little 
and  shadow.  The  chill  morning  air  lunch  sack  closer  as  the  descent 
tickled  my  nostrils  until  I  filled  down  the  hill  into  the  seep  lands 
both  lungs  with  the  refreshing  began.  We  slipped  and  slid  over 
breath,  driving  away  all  slumber,  the  bare  ledge  that  sloped  gently, 
I  dressed  under  the  Balm  of  Gilead  the  weather-worn  ridges  affording 
trees,  aware  only  of  the  early  morn-  the  beasts  a  toehold,  then,  on  down 
ing  songs  of  the  thousands  of  birds,  the  hillside  we  went,  brushing 
There  was  the  plaintive  call  of  the  roughly  against  the  trees,  and  now- 
mourning  dove  that  came  from  the  and  again  curving  about  such  sharp 
surrounding  hills.  A  meadow  lark,  turns  in  the  trail  we  fairly  met  our- 
just  four  yards  away,  sitting  on  the  selves  coming  down, 
top  of  a  fence  post,  soloed  in  turn.  North  Hollow  offered  patches  of 
"Utah,  Utah,  Utah's  a  pretty  little  white  and  yellow  clover,  rich  with 
place!"  From  the  willows  below  sweet  nectar,  which  the  bees  were 
the  house  came  the  great  chorus  of  busy  gathering  and  taking  to  a  little 
blackbirds.  dark  hole  in  a  ledge  to  store  for 

As  the  sun  peeped  over  the  dark  winter  use. 

hills,     changing     the     misty     pink  The    tall    patches    of    wiregrass 

clouds    into    bold    golden-red,    the  grew  thick  where  the  courses  of  the 

chorus  mounted  into  a  glorious  cli-  small  streamlets  came  creeping  out 

max.  Then  the  notes  died  sweetly  of  the  ground,  each,  in  its  own  turn, 

away,  as  the  birds  dismissed  their  slithering    eastward    until   they   all 

musical    convention    to    go    about  united  to  form  a  little  waterfall  over 

their  daily  tasks.  the    last    two    ledges.     There    the 

The  homeliness  of  chores  about  stream  would  run  and  hide  again 

the  farm  never  seemed  to  register  in  the  soft  sand  that  made  up  the 

their  ugliness  upon  me,  for  my  days  valley  below.    There  were  the  mel- 

were  ushered  in  with  music.  ons  we  had  planted  between   the 

I  followed  the  long  string  of  milk  roots   of   gnarled   cedar   trees   and 

cows     along  the  north  trail.     The  the  ledge.     The  little  vines  today 

swishing  of  their  tails,  as  they  bat-  were  turning  yellow.  This,  I  knew, 

tied  the  natural  pests  of  cows  on  a  was  a  sign  there  were  not  the  right 

warm   summer   day,    kept   rhythm  things  in  the  soil  to  raise  melons, 

with  the  clicking  of  their  heels  and  By  noon  the  cows,  my  pony,  and 

the  steady  ting,  ting,  of  the  bell  on  I  had  moved  one  more  hollow  to 

the  lead  cow.  the     south— Cowslip     Hollow,     so 

The  heat  was  beginning  to  shim-  called  because  of  the  large  bed  of 

mer  up   from   the   earth,   bringing  wild  cowslips  that  clustered  about 

Page  190 



the  stream  near  the  mouth  of  it. 
This  hollow  was  my  paradise.  In  it 
lived  all  anyone's  imagination  could 
create.  There  was  little  Yosemite 
Falls,  which  I  used  often  for  a 
shower  bath.  Not  far  from  this, 
the  great  throne,  on  which  one  sat 
and  imagined  herself  a  queen.  But 
best  of  all  was  the  stage  just  below, 
with  its  organ  behind  it,  its  choir 
seats  that  tiered  the  whole  hillside. 
When  you  were  standing  in  the 
pit  ready  to  conduct  this  choir,  di- 
rectly behind  you  and  half  a  mile 
across  the  valley,  were  the  great  red 
ledges  to  echo  and  amplify  the 

I  found  a  beautiful  tapered  wil- 
low, and  with  this  I  led  my  choir. 
I  had  learned  to  whisper,  and  the 
soprano  would  whisper  back.  I 
could,  if  I  was  careful,  pitch  every 
part,  and  the  choir  would  sing,  and 
then  the  red  ledges  would  answer 
back.  The  hills  would  come  alive, 
and  all  those  seats  would  fill,  and 
we  would  sing,  and  I  would  thrill 
from  head  to  toe. 

This  day,  after  my  choir  had  ren- 
dered an  anthem,  and  before  the 
strains  had  fully  died  away,  I 
turned  and  saw,  sitting  on  his  horse 
watching  me,  Duchesne  George. 
His  long  black  braids  fell  over  each 
shoulder,  and  the  familiar  weather- 
beaten     face     smiled     kindlv.     He 

nodded  and  pointed  to  the  hills 
above  and  behind  me  and  said, 
'Tou  make  'em  all  talk,  make  talk 

I  smiled  and  nodded.  Half  for- 
getting my  audience,  I  decided  to 
play  an  organ  interlude.  I  whis- 
pered, my  hillside  organ  whispered, 
and  far  across  the  valley  the  red 
ledges  whispered  back.  I  went  from 
note  to  note,  releasing  all  I  could 
remember  of  what  the  birds  had 
told  me  in  the  early  dawn.  With 
the  organ  playing  bird  music,  my 
great  choir  burst  into  song.  I  stood 
in  my  make-believe  cathedral,  a 
master  of  music,  a  composer  of 
song.  Again,  as  the  last  tremor  of 
the  organ  was  dying  away,  I  looked 
behind  me,  for  in  my  triumph  I  had 
forgotten  the  gentle  Indian.  He 
was  gone.  I  could  see  him  slowly 
riding  south  on  the  dusty  road. 

The  shadows  of  evening  were 
gathering;  already  my  cathedral  was 
chill.  I  mounted  my  pony  and 
started  my  charges  up  the  hill.  We 
pushed  our  way  over  the  topmost 
ridge  and  came  through  the  cluster 
of  cedars.  The  Master  Painter  was 
dipping  the  western  sky  with  deep 
purple  and  flecking  it  with  crimson 
and  gold.  In  the  east,  behind  us, 
the  cotton  clouds  were  touched 
with  pink,  and  they  floated  softly 
in  the  blue  dome  of  the  sky. 


Vesta  N.  Lukei 


An  island  shore 

To  edge  with  foam,  the  sea 

Lies  barren  as  a  meadow  with 

No  tree. 

CA/oe   Ca//  JLater    I  Hakes  uier  (cywn   sluiit   LOestgns 

Chloe  Call  Later,  Rigby,  Idaho,  who  recently  celebrated  her  sixty-fourth  birthday, 
has  designed  many  silk  quilts  and  other  articles  of  exquisite  handwork.  She  is  an 
artist  in  free-hand  design,  and  no  two  of  her  quilts  are  alike.  Her  patterns  range  from 
lovable  bunnies  to  a  "proposal  under  a  weeping  willow  tree."  This  love  of  artistic 
expression  began  when  Mrs.  Later  was  a  girl  in  Primary,  when  she  pieced  blocks  to 
make  a  quilt  top  and  presented  the  finished  article  to  a  needy  family  in  the  ward.  Her 
first  baby  quilt,  or  carriage  robe,  was  made  in  1928  for  her  first  grandchild.  Since  that 
date  she  has  designed  and  made  over  two  hundred  silk  quilts.  She  has  also  assisted  in 
making  hundreds  of  quilts  in  Relief  Society  and  has  directed  the  making  of  many 
other  quilts.  A  soft,  golden  silk  quilt  is  now  being  completed  by  Mrs.  Later  in  an- 
ticipation of  the  graduation  of  one  of  her  granddaughters.  Each  of  her  children,  and 
every  married  grandchild  has,  to  this  date,  received  one  of  her  lovely  silk  quilts.  Mrs. 
Later's  talents  and  industry  also  extend  to  many  other  types  of  handwork,  including 
crocheting,  embroidery,  and  the  making  of  exquisite  bags  and  greeting  cards. 

Mrs.  Later  has  served  in  all  of  the  Church  auxiliary  organizations,  except  the 
Sunday  School.  Her  Relief  Society  activities  have  been  extensive,  including  eight 
years  as  work  director  for  Rigby  Stake  Relief  Society,  five  years  as  president  in  Bremer- 
ton, Washington,  ten  years  as  a  member  of  the  sewing  committee  in  Rigby  Second 
Ward,  and  thirty-six  years  as  a  visiting  teacher.  Mrs.  Later  is  mother  to  nine  chil- 
dren, grandmother  to  eighteen,  and  great-grandmother  to  two.  She  also  does  gen- 
ealogy work  and  sings  in  the  ward  and  stake  choirs. 



Dora  Toone  Brough 

Prayer  is  a  key  God  gave  to  us 
Whereby  we  might  commune  with  him; 
To  seek  for  wisdom,  peace,  and  truth. 
And  keep  faith's  light  from  growing  dim. 

Page   192 

Willard  Luce 

Jt   (bunnen    Viyindow   (garden 

Ceiia  Luce 

jV/fORE  and  more  new  homes  are  being  built  with  basement  rumpus  or  recreation 
-^  ■*■  rooms.  But,  unless  the  house  is  built  into  the  hillside,  the  basement  windows 
are  usually  tiny  and  in  the  basement  wall,  with  the  natural  lighting  having  all  the 
charm  of  a  first-class  dungeon.  If  the  house  is  built  to  provide  for  large  basement 
windows,  it  looks  like  a  house  on  stilts. 

A  sunken  garden  adjacent  to  the  basement  window  solves  the  problem  beautifully. 
It  allows  for  a  large  window  in  the  basement  room.  It  also  presents  a  beautiful  view 
from  the  inside.  On  eye  level  are  the  tops  of  the  flowers,  making  them  seem  as 
though  they  were  a  part  of  the  room.  Behind  the  flowers,  the  retaining  wall  makes 
a  lovely  pattern  background,  and  beyond  is  a  glimpse  of  the  rest  of  the  garden. 

The  light  from  the  large  window  makes  the  basement  room  as  livable  as  the 
rooms  upstairs. 

From  the  outside,  the  sunken  garden  adds  a  delightful  surprise  to  your  landscaping. 
The  retaining  wall  hides  the  flowers  until  one  is  very  close,  then  a  blaze  of  hidden 
flower  beauty  is  suddenly  discovered. 

Page  193 

Today  I  Reveal  Them 

Rose  A.  Openshaw 


O  one  can  steal  the  treasures  of 
my  childhood,  which  I  have 
kept  locked  in  a  jewelled  box  in  a 
remote  corner  of  my  heart.  The 
jewels  are  composed  of  hope  and 
joy  and  tears,  and  today,  for  the 
first  time,  I  shall  take  them  out  one 
by  one  and  reveal  them. 

Some  of  them,  perhaps,  may 
strike  an  echo  in  your  own  soul, 
for  no  doubt  you  have  treasures  that 
are  quite  similar. 

These  treasures  are  priceless;  and 
while  once  they  were  concrete  acts 
or  objects  or  words,  through  mem- 
ory they  have  resolved  themselves 
into  cherished  scenes  or  pictures, 
and  of  these  was  the  fulness  of  my 
childhood  composed. 

It  was  composed  of  being  carried 
on  my  father's  shoulders  to  church, 
until  the  gash  in  my  foot,  cut  on 
broken  glass  in  a  stream,  mended; 
or  of  mother  holding  the  injured 
part  over  a  plate  of  live  coals,  from 
which  smoke  from  burning  sugar 
twirled  and  swirled  upward,  to  cure 

Of  finding  a  beautiful  doll  with 
brown  hair  and  eyes  on  the  only 
Christmas  tree  we  ever  had,  long 
stockings  hung  from  mantels  over 
the  fireplace  being  the  usual  order. 
Of  hugging  in  rapture  the  wooden 
cradle  my  father  in  his  tenderness 
made  for  my  doll. 

Or  being  unable  to  play,  or  scarce- 
ly to  eat  when  mother's  head  ached; 
and  of  worrying  and  praying  for  her 
all  the  day  long,  when  she  made  the 
horse  and  buggy  trips  to  Phoenix, 
for  sometimes  the  horse  was  balky 
and  she  might  get  hurt! 

Page  194 

Of  corn-roasts  in  which  neighbors 
of  all  ages  took  part,  and  of  the 
glorious  game  of  ''Run-Sheep-Run," 
played  by  all  of  us  afterwards. 

Of  my  chum  and  I  being  com- 
mended by  our  teachers  for  "al- 
ways being  prepared,"  and  so  priv- 
ileged for  out-of-door  study.  Of  the 
fig  tree  between  our  homes  where 
we  nailed  a  box  and  daily  placed 
notes  when  we  couldn't  visit  each 

Of  being  surprised,  when  I  was 
ill,  by  the  gift,  from  my  sister  Delta, 
of  a  gorgeous  jade  velvet  hood,  lace- 
decorated  in  ecru,  for  my  doll, 
which  has  endeared  my  sister  to 
me  through  all  the  long  years  that 
have  followed. 

Of  helping  my  brother  Frank  lo- 
cate and  repair  weak  places  in 
fences,  working  with  redoubled  en- 
ergy after  his  words  of  praise  that 
I  was  better  help  than  the  boys 
he  had  had. 

Of  getting  up  entertainments, 
aided  by  my  chum,  to  which  the 
entire  village  paid  a  nickel  admis- 
sion charge.  Much  of  the  program, 
of  dialogues,  tableaux,  readings,  and 
welcoming  speeches  was  composed 
by  ourselves. 

Of  being  present  for  a  campfire 
meal  just  as  the  desert's  shadows 
were  growing  purple-faced  from 
stretching  their  long  limbs  before 
retiring,  and  of  smelling  the  aroma 
of  potatoes,  onions,  and  bacon 
stewing  together,  and  the  fragrance 
of  hot  bread  fresh  from  a  bake- 

Of  standing  around  with  my  lit- 



tie  friends  wondering  if  any  food 
would  be  left,  when  the  General 
Authorities  from  Salt  Lake,  or  the 
county  school  superintendent,  were 
served  hot  biscuits,  mashed  pota- 
toes, stewed  chicken,  and  gravy,  and 
creamy  rice  pudding  (as  only  mv 
mother  could  make),  and  the  table 
refused  to  accommodate  all  at  one 

r\F   tying,    with   my   chum,   in   a 
Book  of  Mormon  chapter-read- 
ing contest,  and  winning  a  beautiful, 
pearl-handled  pen. 

Of  picking  turkeys,  both  at 
Thanksgiving  and  Christmas,  to 
earn  money  for  Christmas  presents 
for  my  parents.  (Hard  was  the  work 
for  tender  hands.)  Of  sponsoring 
sewing  clubs  so  we  could  make  pin- 
cushions and  other  items  for  gifts 
out  of  scraps  of  silks  and  ribbons. 
It  was  such  joy  to  give! 

And  of  my  most  dreaded  task  of 
all— taking  milk  five  miles  away  to 
the  dairy  in  the  old  buckboard 
(buggy)  mornings.  Five  miles  dis- 
tant the  dairy  stood,  and  there  was 
much  to  intimidate  a  small  girl 
along  the  way. 

Of  gathering  plums  with  the  first 
tint  of  rose  on  their  cheeks  and 
burying  them  in  a  shallow  hole  in 
the  moist  earth,  supposed  to  hasten 
ripening,  then  of  digging  them 
every  day  to  see  if  they  had  ma- 

Of  helping  my  married  sister, 
Etta,  whose  health  was  poor,  with 
her  laundry  and  dishes,  and  keeping 
her  company  nights,  homesick  to 
the  core  of  my  being  for  mother, 

with  our  house  less  than  a  block 

Of  riding  to  a  Phoenix  circus  in 
the  back  of  a  wagon— seeing  the 
strange  animals  and  the  unbeliev- 
able performance,  and  being  treated 
at  the  noon-hour  to  what  seemed 
a  meal  of  meals— baker's  bread  and 

Of  visiting  the  ostrich  farm  in 
Phoenix,  seeing  the  long,  graceful 
plumes  milliners  fastened  together 
to  adorn  hats  and  of  seeing  the 
huge,  ivory-colored,  massive-shelled 
eggs  firsthand. 

And  of  the  incomparable  happi- 
ness of  hunting  the  first  wild 
flowers  of  spring.  Oh,  the  exulta- 
tion that  swelled  my  heart  in  the 
joy  of  discovering  the  fragile,  fra- 
grant blooms!  Comparable  it  is  to- 
day to  finding  glorious  truths 
concealed  in  the  tall  green  grass 
of  books  and  sermons.  Yet  while 
these  shall  live  on  eternally,  the 
flowers  wilted  before  we  finished 
our  mile-long  trek! 

Too,  how  we  thrilled  to  the  love- 
liness of  the  first  tiny  eggs  in  the 
well-woven,  basket-like  nests,  hid- 
den away  in  the  leaf-fluffy  trees. 

Oh,  mine  was  a  happy  childhood 
—a  happy,  carefree  existence,  and 
made  more  so  by  the  knowledge 
of  the  abiding  love  and  unity  exist- 
ing between  my  parents,  for  never 
to  my  knowledge,  did  one  unkind 
word  ever  pass  between  them.  And 
I  thank  them— thank  the  dear  ones 
from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  for 
saving  me  the  heartaches,  the  stab- 
bing grief  and  pain  that  would  have 
cut  so  deeply  into  tender  hearts  had 
it  been  otherwise. 


The  Deeper  Melody 

Chapter  6 
Alice  Money  Bailey 

Synopsis:  Steven  Thorpe,  a  widower 
with  three  small  children,  is  in  love  with 
Margaret  Grain,  a  registered  nnrse  who  has 
taken  care  of  his  baby  during  an  attack 
of  pneumonia.  Margaret's  mother,  a  wid- 
ow, is  temporarily  acting  as  Steven's 
housekeeper,  gnd  Margaret  has  accepted 
the  position  of  night  superintendent  at 
the  hospital  until  her  marriage  to  Dr.  Rex 
Harmon.  In  the  meantime  Steven  has 
been  made  vice-president  of  the  Pikes 
Peak  Machinery  Company  and  finds  him- 
>self  unwillingly  accepting  invitations  from 
Miss  Tate,  his  secretary.  One  night  as 
Steven  and  Miss  Tate  are  leaving  the 
theatre  they  meet  Margaret  and  Dr.  Har 

STEVE  had  never  seen  Margaret 
out  of  uniform  before,  and  he 
noticed  how  stunning  she  was, 
a  second  before  he  recognized  her. 
From  looking  coldly  elegant  beside 
her  partner,  she  suddenly  turned 
radiant  when  she  saw  Steve. 

''Steve!''  she  said,  ''Steve  Thorpe/' 

Her  greeting  was  so  warm  and 
friendly  that  her  partner  eyed  him 
with  suspicion,  and  he  felt  Miss 
Tate  stiffen  at  his  side.  He  intro- 
duced her  to  Margaret. 

"Rex,  this  is  Steve  Thorpe,  little 
Phyllis'  father." 

The  two  men  shook  hands  civilly. 
Steve  commented,  'T  thought  you 
were  on  duty  at  this  time  of  night," 
and  she  answered:  "My  night  off!" 

That  was  all.  Certainly  it  wasn't 
enough  to  set  free  a  strange  hope 
in  Steve's  heart— a  hope  that  flew  on 
stunted  wings  and  floundered  to  im- 
potence. All  night  long  he  argued 
with  himself  that  her  look  of  glad 
recognition  was  nothing  more  than 

Page  196 

the  cordial  greeting  of  a  friend,  and 
all  night  he  was  haunted  by  it.  He 
admitted  ruefully,  to  himself,  that 
Dr.  Harmon  was  a  distinguished 
looking  man,  in  a  distinguished  pro- 
fession, and  was  a  perfect  compli- 
ment of  her  chic  beauty. 

"When  is  this  wedding?"  he 
asked  Mrs.  Grain  next  morning  at 


"Yes,  Margaret's.  Exactly  what 

"It  will  be  on  a  Monday— two 
weeks  from  tomorrow,"  informed 
Mrs.  Grain.  "Hadn't  you  better  be 
doing  something  about  replacing 

"I  can't  replace  you,  Mother 
Grain,"  said  Steve.  He  should  have 
been  thinking  of  that,  the  effect  on 
his  children,  when  Mrs.  Grain  would 
be  gone  and  he  had  to  plunge  into 
the  nightmare  of  a  new  regime.  In- 
stead, he  had  been  thinking  of  him- 
self—with Margaret  lost  to  him  for- 
ever, and  his  heart  lunged  in  panic 
at  the  few  days  left. 

"The  children  haven't  taken  to 
Mrs.  Hall  a  bit,  and  I  have  only  one 
more  week  with  them,  you  know. 
Steve,  you  ought  to  get  married." 

"So  I've  heard,"  said  Steve  cryp- 
tically. "Any  suggestions  as  to  the 

"That  Miss  Tate  would  marry 
you  at  the  drop  of  a  hat!" 

"I  don't  love  Miss  Tate,  nor  does 
she  love  me  for  that  matter." 

"I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  you 
married   her,   or   she  married   you. 



just    the    same,"    said    Mrs.    Grain 

It  stirred  fury  in  Steve.  "Mrs. 
Grain/'  he  said,  '1  have  been  ad- 
\'ised  a  number  of  times  to  remarry. 
Each  time  my  advisor  has  said  the 
same  as  you  say,  you  should  remarry. 
Each  has  neglected  to  suggest  that 
I  fall  in  love  again.  I  have  always 
had  an  idea  that  two  people  should 
love  each  other,  in  order  to  marry. 
Perhaps  I  am  old-fashioned  or  ju- 
venile in  my  thinking.  Perhaps  I 
should  be  set  straight  on  this." 

ly/fRS.  Grain  sat  up  and  looked  at 
Steve  in  surprise.  *'My  land! 
You're  just  as  right  as  you  can  be, 
Steve.  I  know  I  would  feel  the  same, 
even  at  my  age,  if  I  were  consider- 
ing getting  married,  but  here  I  go 
advising  you  to  just  get  married, 
without  any  feeling  at  all,  just  as  a 
matter  of  convenience."  She  put 
her  chin  in  her  hand,  considering. 
"Still,  I  know  literally  hundreds  of 
couples  who  are  married  who  don't 
really  love  each  other,"  she  went  on. 
"Some  of  them  respect  each  other, 
though,  and  it  seems  to  work  out 
pretty  well.  Maybe  you  ought  to 
think  of  that,  Steve.  You  do  need 
a  wife— and  your  little  ones  need  a 
mother.  Maybe  you  will  never  love 
again,  and  .  .  .  ." 

"I  do  love  again,  Mrs.  Grain,  and 
anything  less  is  not  good  enough 
for  me.  I  love  your  daughter.  I 
love  Margaret." 

"So  you  love  Margaret,"  Mrs. 
Grain  said  after  a  long  moment. 
"I  might  have  known." 

'Tou  see  how  hopeless  it  is?" 
"Does  Margaret  know  this?" 
'^Gertainly  not.    She  has  enough 
to  think  about,  without  me  being 
a  nuisance  to  her." 

"It  is  never  a  nuisance  for  a 
woman  to  know  a  man  loves  her." 

"You  can't  be  serious!  At  this 
late  date?  It  was  already  too  late 
when  I  met  her.    You  know  that." 

"I  don't  know  any  such  thing— 
but  it  will  be  in  two  more  weeks." 

"What  are  you  saying?"  A  pulse 
was  thudding  heavily  in  Steve. 
"What  would  Margaret  say  to  all 

"I  haven't  the  slightest  idea,"  said 
Mrs.  Grain  coolly.  "But  I  think 
any  girl  has  the  right  to  choose  be- 
tween the  men  who  love  her." 

"Of  course!"  agreed  Steve,  direct- 
ly hit  by  her  logic.  He  went  swift- 
ly to  the  telephone  and  called  Mar- 
garet. Her  sleepy  voice  ran  through 
his  veins  like  an  electric  shock. 

"I  have  to  see  you,  Margaret." 

"Is  anything  wrong?  Phyllis? 

"Everyone  is  fine.  Gould  I  come 
and  see  you  right  away?" 

"Steve!"  There  was  a  long  si- 
lence, then  her  voice  came  small 
and  miserable.  "I'm  sorry.  Dr.  Har- 
mon is  free  today.  He'll  be  here 
for  me  in  half  an  hour." 

"This  afternoon,  then?  Before 
you  go  on  duty?" 

"We're  going  for  a  drive.  We'll 
not  be  back  until  barely  time  for 
me  to  get  into  my  uniform." 

"How  about  tonight,  when  you 
come  off  duty?"  Steve  persisted. 

"He's  picking  me  up  then." 

"Is  there  any  time  when  I  can 
see  you?" 

"Saturday.    It's  my  day  off  .  .  .  ." 

"This  won't  wait  until  Saturday," 
said  Steve  desperately. 

"Gan't  you  tell  me  now,  over  the 
phone?"  Margaret  suggested.  "Give 
me  some  idea  what  you  have  in 



*'It  concerns  you  and  me,  Mar- 
garet, and  I  don't  want  to  discuss 
it  over  the  telephone." 

'1  think  Vd  better  not  see  you— 
at  all,"  said  Margaret,  her  voice  sud- 
denly weak. 

''As  you  wish/'  said  Steve  through 
stiff  lips,  and  hung  up,  his  hope  de- 

"I^THY  had  her  voice  changed? 
Why  had  she  not  made  some 
way  for  him  to  see  her?  Steve  was 
sure  she  could  have.  Had  she 
guessed  his  message?  Of  course  she 
had,  and  certainly  she  wouldn't 
want  to  see  him.  He  was  a  fool  to 
hope,  anyway.  What  woman  in  her 
right  mind  would  want  a  man  with 
a  family  of  children,  the  position  of 
being  a  second  wife? 

Still,  Steve  himself  had  rather 
rosy  prospects.  Being  vice-president 
of  PPMC  was  no  small  thing,  and 
J.  T.  had  assured  him  that  he  would 
not  only  become  its  president,  but 
its  eventual  owner.  Nevertheless, 
Steve  felt  anything  but  secure.  It 
depended  solely  upon  him— if  he 
could  increase  his  capacity  to  cover 
all  the  responsibilities,  and  he  was 
not  sure  he  could.  Some  inward 
adversity  seemed  to  dog  him  since 
he  acquired  his  new  status,  some 
loss  of  self-assurance,  and  he  won- 
dered if  the  seeds  of  eventual  fail- 
ure were  deep  within  him. 

He  studied,  he  worked,  he  went 
over  old  ledgers  and  old  methods, 
crammed  on  facts  about  their  clien- 
tele. He  knew  selling  and  business 
management  all  right,  and  had  a 
pretty  good  knowledge  of  machin- 
ery, but  he  soon  learned  that  the 
head  of  a  company  must  know 
every  man's  job  almost  better  than 
he  did  himself.    The  company  was 

staffed  with  experts,  so  Steve  spent 
hours  in  each  department,  not  spar- 
ing himself.  Each  morning  he 
went  forth  determined  to  be  fully 
adequate  for  the  day's  requirements, 
but  each  night's  appraisal  left  much 
to  be  desired  in  his  own  opinion. 

Some  of  it,  he  knew,  stemmed 
from  his  domestic  problem,  fear  and 
concern  for  his  children,  their  rear- 
ing with  hired  help,  and  some  of 
it,  most  surely,  was  a  result  of  his 
frustrated  love  for  Margaret,  and  of 
his  shock  in  finding  in  himself  the 
ability  to  love  again,  with  the  alter- 
nate fire  and  ice  of  hope  and  despair. 
Now,  after  this  morning's  conver- 
sation with  her,  she  seemed  again 
completely  beyond  his  reach. 

The  work  into  which  he  had  re- 
solved to  plunge  was  there  waiting 
for  him  when  he  arrived;  the  men 
had  already  started  to  load  the 
heavy  machinery  of  a  new  order  on- 
to the  flatcars.  Steve  charged  into 
J.  T.'s  office. 

''I  thought  you  said  we'd  change 
that  cable  before  we  started  loading 
another  order,"  he  said  furiously. 

"Steve,  but  do  you  realize  this 
is  the  Kettle  Creek  machinery  we're 
loading— and  it's  several  weeks  over- 
due now." 

''I  don't  care  whose  machinery  it 
is,"  said  Steve.  ''If  you  don't  give 
the  order  to  stop  it,  I  will." 

"You  give  it  then,"  said  J.  T. 
softly.  "I  wondered  just  how  long 
before  you  would.  I  have  been 
watching  you,  boy.  You've  been 
addled  a  lot  of  times  when  your 
mind  should  have  been  clear,  and 
your  stand  firm.  You're  still  think- 
ing in  terms  of  a  salesman.  A  word 
to  the  foreman  the  minute  you  saw 
that  cable  needed  fixing,  would 
have  done  it.     In  fact,  he  should 



have  seen  it  and  told  you.  I  was 
beginning  to  be  a  mite  disappoint- 
ed in  the  future  head  of  the  com- 

'Tou  mean  you  were  baiting  me 
all  along?"  Steve  demanded  hotly. 
''And  if  so,  why  do  it  when  men's 
lives  are  in  danger?" 

"You  don't  test  a  man  in  extrem- 
ity without  an  extremity/'  said  J.  T. 

"You  old  walrus!"  Steve  took 
time  to  say  before  he  went  down 
the  ramp  to  stop  the  crane. 

JT  was  too  late,  for  even  as  he  lift- 
ed his  arm  to  signal,  the  cable 
broke,  plunging  a  roll-crusher  sick- 
eningly  between  the  flatcar  and  the 
dolley.  Fortunately  for  Sam  Dil- 
lon, who  was  directly  underneath, 
the  edge  of  the  car  broke  the  fall, 
or  he  would  have  been  killed  in- 
stantly. As  it  was  his  upper  thigh 
was  struck. 

The  men  were  organized  in  saf- 
ety, and  it  was  only  a  few  amazing 
seconds  until  an  ambulance  was 
there  and  Sam  was  on  the  way  to 
the  hospital.  Steve  ran  for  his  car 
and  followed. 

The  day  was  a  nightmare  of  wait- 
ing outside  Sam's  door,  breaking  the 
news  to  Sam's  wife,  comforting  her, 
waiting  outside  the  operating  room 
while  Sam  was  in  surgery,  but  Sam 
finally  woke  up  from  the  anaes- 
thesia to  give  him  a  wavery  grin. 

"The  doctor  says  you're  going  to 
be  all  right,  guy,"  he  said.  "We'll 
take  care  of  the  family,   so  don't 

worry/'  , 

Then  Steve  decided  he  wouldn  t 
leave  because  an  accident  had 
brought  him  to  Margaret's  hospital, 
and  at  three  o'clock  she  would  be 
on  duty  somewhere  within  it.  He 
was  going  to  see  her  whether  she 

wished  him  to  or  not.  He  curbed 
himself  to  wait  until  three-twenty 
so  that  any  business  might  be 
cleared  away,  then  he  sought  the 
main  floor  and  the  door  marked 
"Superintendent  of  Nurses/' 

She  was  at  her  desk,  and,  mirac- 
ulously alone.  She  looked  up  from 
her  work  and  joy  flooded  her  face. 

"Steve!"  she  said,  rising  and  put- 
ting an  impulsive  hand  out  to  him, 
a  hand  which  Steve  tried  not  to 
crush.  "Steve,  how  nice  to  see 
you."  He  saw  her  remember  that 
morning's  conversation,  and  then 

"It  is  good,"  said  Steve,  searching 
her  face.  It  was  as  he  remembered 
it,  the  clean  line  of  her  jaw,  the 
wide,  clear  brown  brows  beneath 
the  white  wing  of  her  cap,  the 
smooth  skin  and  the  sweet  upturn 
of  her  mouth.  Light  from  a  nearby 
window  made  her  eyes  seem  a 
translucent  blue,  her  teeth  translu- 
cent pearl,  when  she  smiled,  and 
touched  a  satin  patch  on  one  cheek 
where  Steve  longed  to  kiss.  "It  was 
very  good— so  good  that  I  had  to 
see  you  again.  Have  you  forgot- 
ten us?" 

"Oh,  no,  not  forgotten.  I  think 
of  you  a  great  deal— and  the  babies, 
but  I  thought  it  best  for  me  and 
for  the  children— and  for  you,  Steve, 
for  me  not  to  come  again/' 

Oh!  So  she  had  guessed,  just  as 
he  thought,  and  was  trying  to  dis- 
courage his  romantic  intentions. 
Well,  it  was  too  late  for  that.  "I 
can't  forget  you,  Margaret.  My 
house  is  haunted  by  you.  I  have  to 
talk  to  you.    Right  now." 

"I'm  on  duty,  Steve,"  she  hedged. 
"The  hospital  rules  .  .  .  /' 
"I  have  to  break  down  a  barrier 



somewhere.     It   might   as   well  be 
hospital  rules!" 

"pOR  answer  she  picked  up  the 
telephone.  ''Don't  disturb  me 
except  for  an  emergency/'  she  told 
the  operator.  She  went  over  and 
closed  her  door,  drew  up  a  chair 
for  Steve,  and  resumed  her  seat  be- 
hind her  desk. 

"Now/*  she  said,  ''go  ahead." 
Steve  was  suddenly  disconcerted. 
Now  that  he  had  his  way,  he  was 
overwhelmed  with  doubts.  This 
was  not  the  time  nor  the  place  to 
tell  Margaret  his  love.  It  was  cer- 
tainly not  the  circumstances  he 
wanted.  He  had  imagined  hours 
of  conversation  preceding  his  decla- 
ration. If  he  must  blurt  it  out  in 
these  sterile  surroundings,  this 
clinical  atmosphere,  what  little 
chance  it  had  would  come  to  noth- 

On  the  other  hand,  if  all  her  free 
time  was  devoted  to  Dr.  Harmon, 

and  she  was  avoiding  him,  and 
would  not  see  him  voluntarily,  this 
moment  loomed  up  as  his  single 
opportunity.  This  most  important 
moment  of  his  life  was  threatened 
every  moment  with  interruption, 
threatened  by  this  fear  which  para- 
lyzed his  tongue.  J.  T.'s  words  came 
starkly  to  him  ''.  .  .  you  have  been 
addled  a  lot  of  times  when  your 
mind  should  have  been  clear." 
There  came  to  him  a  deep  truth, 
the  race  is  already  lost  to  the  timid, 
the  doubtful,  the  ones  lacking  in 

Margaret  was  watching  him,  and 
he  realized  he  had  been  gazing  at 
her  while  he  thought.  He  took  a 
deep  breath  and  straightened  in  his 
chair,  acting  a  courage  which  he 
did  not  feel. 

"I  came  to  tell  you  that  I  love 
you,"  he  said.  "I  want  you  to  be 
my  wife." 

{To  he  continued) 

I  Horning  Sds  uier   'Jjehght 

Lael  W.  Hill 

Morning  is  her  delight — she  wakens  smiling, 
Barefoot,  she  dances  over  the  dawn-cool  floor; 
She  runs  from  one  room  to  another,  eager,  calling 
In  formless  words,  finding  new  day  every^vhe^e. 

Still  in  her  small  white  gown,  she  slips  out  softly; 
Sky  is  no  brighter  than  her  sky-bright  eyes. 
Only  the  breeze  can  touch  a  leaf  more  deftly; 
Sparrows  turn  toward  her  laugh,  lawn  tickles  her  toes. 

Captured  at  last  into  shoes  and  a  dress  for  playing, 
Given  the  usual  toys  (soon  scattered  and  spilled) 
She  watches  for  sun  through  windows  with  curtains  blownig 
Morning  is  her  dehght,  she  is  morning's  child. 


Margaret  C.  Pickering,  General  Secretar}^- Treasurer 

All  inaterial  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Societ}'  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  ''Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950,  page  278,  and 
the  Handbook  oi  Instructions,  page  123. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Elizabeth  H.  Zimmerman 

AT  BAZAAR,  November  7,  1953 

Left  to  right:  John  Felt,  modeling  boy's  suit;  Paula  Fairbanks,  wearing  a  house- 
coat; Lynn  Car,  wearing  a  jumper  and  jacket;  Dianne  Armstrong,  wearing  a  skirt  and 
waistcoat;  Brenda  Prince,  wearing  a  party  dress. 

One  hundred  fifty  pieces  of  children's  clothing  were  made  for  this  bazaar,  held 
in  the  Edmonton  meetinghouse.  Six  other  display  sections  were  represented,  including 
eighty  aprons,  fourteen  quilts,  180  pounds  of  chocolates,  several  pieces  of  linens,  106 
novelties,  and  six  hundred  cookbooks.  Relief  Society  presidents  are:  Melba  McMul- 
lin,  Edmonton  First  Branch,  and  Hattie  Jensen,  Edmonton  Second  Branch. 

Elizabeth  H.  Zimmerman  is  president  of  the  Western  States  Mission  Relief  Society. 

Page  201 



l^hotograph  submitted   by   JennaVee  Hall 



Photograph  taken  at  the  opening  social,  September  29,   1953 

Front  row,  left  to  right:  Celia  Jacobson;  Elda  Haycock;  Bishop  Gold;  President 
Venice  Prince;  Secretary  Eileen  Low;  Second  Counselor  Elaine  Pugmire;  First  Coun- 
selor Blanche  Allred;  Chariot  Watson,  visiting  teacher  message  leader. 

Second  row,  left  to  right:  Flora  Chatterton;  Wilma  Larson;  Nora  Barlogi;  Stella 
Farnsworth;  Ethel  Boyer;  Twila  Bendorf;  Helen  Allen;  Lavern  Allen. 

Third  row,  left  to  right:  Odetta  Stringer;  Alta  Sherwood;  Donna  Claiborne; 
Thelma  Green;  Edna  Kenitzer;  Iris  Pugmire;  Rella  Finch;  Georgia  Clark, 

JennaVee  Hall  is  president  of  Gooding  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Anna  H.  Toone 


November  7,  1953 

Anna  H.  Toone,  President,  Canadian  Mission  Relief  Society,  reports  that  this  con- 
ference was  unusually  successful:     "We  had   185  Relief  Society  sisters  in  attendance. 



I^rom  the  two  branches  Timmins  and  Sault  St.  iMarie  twelve  sisters  traveled  one  thou- 
sand miles  to  attend  this  conference.  Some  of  these  had  never  been  in  a  Latter-day 
Saint  meetinghouse  before,  as  they  had  met  in  little  groups  of  from  twenty  to  forty 
members.  There  were  two  sessions  held,  and  lunch  was  served.  A  display  of  hand- 
work and  welfare  from  the  various  branches  was  exhibited.  It  was  a  glorious  occasion; 
the  spirit  of  the  Lord  was  present  in  rich  abundance.  Those  who  were  present  were 
enthusiastic  and  stimulated  in  Relief  Society  work." 

Photograph  submitted  by  Muriel  S.   Wallis 


October  1953 

Left  to  right:  Vera  Olsen,  President;  Viola  Goodrich,  First  Counselor;  Cora  Cook, 
work  meeting  leader;  Stella  Sadleir,  Second  Counselor. 

As  a  summer  sewing  project  the  members  of  Davis  Ward  Relief  Society  made 
121  different  types  of  articles  from  colorful  feed  bags.  These  articles  were  displayed 
at  the  county  and  State  fairs.  They  were  then  sold  at  the  Relief  Society  bazaar.  This 
unusually  successful  project  was  outstanding  in  the  great  variety  of  useful  articles  made 
and  the  fine  spirit  of  co-operation  developed  among  the  sisters. 

Muriel  S.  Wallis  is  president  of  Uintah  Stake  Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Elsie  J.   Brinkerhoff 


Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Lillian  B.  Carroll  (1924-27);  Martha  Porter  (1927- 
33);  Lucy  H.  Esplin  (1933-36);  Chastie  Esplin  (1936-40);  Mercy  Chamberlain  (1940- 


Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Bessie  E.  Brooksby  (1944-46);  Velma  B.  Car- 
roll (1947-49);  Mahalia  T.  Sorensen  (1947-1949);  Arvilla  J.  Heaton  (1949-1950)  and 
1952  -  );  Helen  A.  Neilson   (1950-52). 

Inserts:  left,  Helen  Jane  Palmer  (1917-21),  now  a  resident  of  St.  George;  right, 
Emma  Seegmiller  Higbee  (1904-17),  now  a  resident  of  Cedar  City. 

All  of  these  women,  except  the  two  last  mentioned,  who  have  moved  away,  are 
still  loyal  and  active  members  of  the  Orderville  Relief  Society. 

Elsie  J.  Brinkerhoff  is  president  of  Kanab  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph   submitted  by   Helen   B.   Walker 


Front   row,    seated   at   the   left:      Kezia    McDonald    and    Marie    Ames;    at    right: 
Margaretta  Coffin  and  Ruth  Morgan. 


Second  row,  standing,  left  to  right;  Martha  Richards;  Elizabeth  Rupp;  Mary 
Breedlove;  Bertha  Meyers;  Ahee  Hayball;  Sarah  Gray;  Anna  Belnap;  Harriett  Peterson; 
Lilhe  Reddish;  Margaret  Norman;  Gertrude  Watson;  Necha  Barron;  Eliza  Jackson; 
Agnes  Whitmore;  Lucy  Richards. 

Third  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Bertha  Pieper,  First  Counselor;  Helen  Walker, 
President,  Pocatello  Stake  Relief  Society;  Hermoine  Horton,  Second  Counselor. 

At  a  party  given  to  honor  the  visiting  teachers  of  the  stake,  special  recognition 
was  accorded  to  these  sisters,  all  of  them  o\'er  seventy-five  years  of  age.  A  short  his- 
tory of  the  Relief  Society  service  of  each  woman  was  given  and  each  was  presented 
with  a  corsage. 

SX^ay    ^JJown  cJ^ aside 

A'largaret  Luiidstrom 

i'i'nnHERE'S  a  homely  little  fellow!"     The  woman  in  front  of  me  nudged  her  com- 
•■■     panion  as  she  spoke. 

*'I  should  say  so!"  came  the  reply.  "Like  a  mud  fence,  he  is." 

Jimmy  walked  on  across  the  stage,  his  straight  little  body  intent  as  he  carried  the 
Cub  Scout  banner  proudly. 

Is  Jimmy  homely?  I  wondered.  I'd  never  thought  so.  And  if  Tom  had,  he'd 
nc\cr  told  me.  Wouldn't  we  know,  when  we'd  looked  at  him  every  day  for  eight  years? 

Think  of  the  way  he  got  up  in  the  morning,  his  eyes  bright  from  sleep  as  he 
chirped.  "Good  morning.  Mother,  I  loxe.  you!";  or  the  smile  he  gave  the  doctor  when 
he  was  told  he  had  the  mumps,  and  it  was  the  day  before  the  school  picnic. 

"It  hurts  so  much  to  smile,"  he  said,  his  voice  a  whisper,  since  it  had  to  squeeze 
past  the  lump  in  his  throat,  "that  I  guess  I  couldn't  probably  stand  it  to  cry,  so  that's 
why  I'm  not." 

And  the  day  Annie  left  the  gate  open,  and  the  puppy  got  out,  and  the  busy  street 
with  its  inevitable  car.  I  dreaded  telling  him,  piling  his  heartache  and  tears  on  top  of 
my  own.  But  he  put  his  arm  about  my  shoulders  and  rubbed  his  snubby,  freckled  nose 
against  my  cheek  and  whispered,  "That's  all  right.  Mommy.  Don't  cry." 

I  looked  again  at  Jimmy  as  he  stood  there  on  the  stage,  over  at  one  side,  now. 
And  when  I  looked  at  the  backs  of  the  women  in  front  of  me,  and  I  thought:  you  don't 
really  see  Jimmy.    If  you  did  .... 

And  all  the  way  home,  walking  along  the  shaded  streets  with  his  plump,  sticky 
little  fingers  entwined  through  mine,  I  kept  trying  to  think  of  something.  Something 
like  "Beauty  is  only  skin  deep,"  only,  of  course,  that  wasn't  it.  The  irony  of  it  made 
me  chuckle.  Jimmy's  fingers  squeezed  mine  and  his  round  face  turned  up  to  me. 

"You're  laughing  at  yourself,  aren't  you.  Mom?" 

"Yes.    But  how'd  you  know?" 

He  skipped  twice  on  one  foot,  and  scuffed  a  stray  leaf  from  the  toe  of  one  shoe. 

"We-e-11  .  .  ."  he  drawled  thoughtfully,  "it  came  from  way  down  inside  you." 
He  skipped  again.  "And  it  was  quiet,  like  nobody  else  had  to  hear  if  they  didn't  want 

It  was  after  that,  maybe  a  dozen  steps  nearer  home,  that  I  felt  the  pity.  It  was 
a  heavy  thing  in  my  chest,  and  it  was  for  those  two  women  who  had  sat  in  front  of  me 
who  hadn't  been  able  to  see  a  little  boy's  beautiful  heart  because  it  lay  behind  a  plain, 
little  face. 






Eastertide — Protheroe    75 

Eastertide — Avery 75 

From  Darkness  to  Light- 


.  Glory  to  Easter  (Two  Part) 
— Norman  80 

Life  Eternal — Holton 

Memories  of  Easter  Morn 
— Lorenz  



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Potted  Plants  In  the  Bathroom 
Elizabeth  Williamson 

Bathrooms  become  enriched  and  more 
attractive  by  adding  small  pots  of  flowers 
or  leafy  plants.  A  metal  container  on  the 
tile  dressing  table  is  especially  effective.  The 
most  charming  effect  is  a  philodendron 
which  grows  up  and  across  the  top  of  the 
room,  or  around  the  dressing  table. 

uiurra  cKc 

urry  CTLome 

Elsie  McKinnon  Strachan 

Someone  fashioned  for  loving 
Is  waiting  your  return, 
Cheering  the  place 
With  diminutive  grace 
And  sweet,  blue-eyed  concern. 

Someone  heart-warmed  and  fragrant, 
Petal-soft  and  new, 
Has  come  to  stay 
And  spends  all  day 
Reminding  me  of  you. 

Page  206 

^Jonghten  the   C^orner   Wkere    (Jou  Jxi 

Cawline  Eyring  Miner 


TT  was  one  good  man's  philosophy  that  one  was  never  fully  dressed  until  he  had 
•*■  "put  on  a  smile."  Since  I  was  a  child  and  learned  to  sing  lustily,  "Little  Purple 
Pansies,"  with  the  lines:  "We  are  very  tiny,  but  must  tr)',  try,  try,  just  one  spot 
to  gladden,  you  and  I,"  I  have  believed  with  all  my  heart  that  it  was  our  very  great 
responsibility  to  be  cheerful  and  thus  to  lighten  the  burdens  of  those  about  us. 

It  is  not  nearly  so  important  in  life  what  happens  to  us  as  the  way  we  take  what 
happens  to  us.  Some  people  have  the  happy  faculty  of  making  steppingstones  out  of 
obstacles,  and  some  have  the  great  misfortune  of  making  mountains  of  trouble  out  of 

My  mother  had  sheer  genius  for  living  a  gloriously  complete  and  happy  life  in 
the  midst  of  poverty  and  adversity.  As  a  little  girl,  she  tried  to  work  her  "Happy  Game" 
on  her  younger  brothers  and  sisters.  Living  in  Mexico  in  the  early  days  of  Latter-day 
Saint  colonization  was  very  difficult,  and  sometimes  the  families  were  hungry.  I  have 
heard  my  uncle  tell  how  mother  would  say  to  him,  "Now,  Thomas,  you  know  you've 
had  all  the  pancakes  you  could  eat.  You've  really  had  plenty,"  and  he  had  nodded 
assent,  although  he  hardly  knew  why. 

Mother  has  seen  good  in  everything  that  has  come  to  her,  and  so  has  been  re- 
markably cheerful  and  has  cheered  others.  Her  humble  home  has  always  been  to  her 
the  most  wonderful  home  a  person  could  ever  have,  her  children  the  kindest  and  most 
considerate,  her  town  the  most  friendly.  And  so  they  were  to  her.  She  saw  the  silver 
lining  while  it  was  still  dark  to  others. 

"It's  the  songs  ye  sing  and  the  smiles  ye  wear  that  are  making  the  sunshine  every- 
where." In  the  midst  of  sorrow  and  confusion,  it  would  be  well  for  each  person  to  feel 
a  personal  responsibility  to  "put  on  a  smile"  and  "make  a  little  sunshine  wherever 
he  goes." 

Spring  C/antasy 

Veida  Mackay 

If  you're  searching  for  adventure 
You  needn't  go  away; 
You'll  find  it  in  your  own  back  yard 
On  any  fine  spring  day. 

Start  looking  at  the  butterflies 
Awhirl  like  colored  snow, 
Walk  softly  through  the  slender  grass 
The  gentle  breezes  blow. 

So  linger  in  the  sun-warmed  light. 
You'll  know  true  peace  of  mind. 
It's  the  best  form  of  adventure 
That  anvone  can  find. 

(!:yur  cJown 

Evelyn  F/e7dsted 

The  past  records  that  once  our  town 
Could  be  circled  by  a  morning  ride. 
Yucca  lily  plots  and  cactus  beds 
Thrived  in  dust  storms  far  and  wide. 

With  guided  streams,  wild  sagebrush  tracts 
Became  a  land  where  sunlight  fell 
On  homes  and  fields  that  were  enclosed 
By  hills  that  formed  a  citadel. 

The  hawk  still  hangs  aloof  in  skies 
That  bend  above  tranquility; 
The  prairie  wolf  is  heard  no  more — 
Our  town  has  walked  with  destiny. 

Page  207 

Orchard  in    M 


Eva  WiJ/es  Waugsgaaid 

A  thousand  constellations 
Have  made  this  plum  tree  white 
A  Milky  Way  of  fragranee 
Has  paused  on  earth  tonight. 

The  apricot  is  festooned 
With  living  Pleiades, 
And  never  stars  of  heaven 
More  radiant  than   these. 

And  light  was  never  whiter 
Than  this  syringa  hedge, 
And  never  was  there  cherry 
To  swear  a  whiter  pledge. 

More  white  than  hills  of  winter 
This  fragrant  living  snow, 
More  luminous  than  Stardust, 
More  warm  than  moonlight  glow 



Three  1954  Conducted 


Sails  from  San  Francisco  April  19 
From  Los  Angeles  May  24 


Leaves  Salt  Lake  City  July  21 


Leaves  Salt  Lake  City  August  6 

The  HISTORIC  TRAIN  includes: 
Shrines  of  the  Church,  the  Pageant  ot 
the  Hill  Cumorah,  and  many  large 
eastern    cities. 

For  complete  details  write  or  phone: 


966  E.  So.  Temple— Telephone  4-2017 
Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

Page  208 

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VOL.  41     NO.  4 

Jal  Short  Story  Issue 


Monthly   Publication   of   the   Relief   Society  of   The   Church   of  Jesus   Christ  of   Latter-day    Saints 

Belle  S.   Spafford  ------  President 

Marianne   C.   Sharp  -----  First  Counselor 

Velma  N.   Simonsen  -----       Second  Counselor 

Margaret  C.   Pickering     -----  Secretary-Treasurer 

Mary  G.  Judd  Evon  W.  Peterson  Christine  H.  Robinson  Charlotte  A.  Larsen 

Anna  B.  Hart  Leone  O.  Jacobs  Alberta  H.  Christensen  Edith  P.  Backman 

Edith  S.  Elliott  Mary  J.  Wilson  Mildred  B.  Eyring  Winniefred  S. 

Florence  J,  Madsen  Louise  W.  Madsen  Helen  W.  Anderson  Manwaring 

Leone  G.  Layton  Aleine  M.  Young  Gladys  S.  Boyer  Elna  P.  Haymond 

Blanche  B.  Stoddard  Josie  B.  Bay 


Editor     -----------  Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Associate  Editor           ---------  Vesta  P.  Crawford 

General  Manager        ---------  Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  41  APRIL  1954  NO.  4 


on  tents 


The  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Marion  G.   Romney  212 

Join  the  Crusade  Against  Cancer  Sandra  Munsell  228 

Nevada's  Valley  of  Fire  Willard  Luce  236 

Double   Beauty   Lena    Woodbury  237 

Participation  in  Relief  Society  Can  Help  Achieve  True  Happiness  Edith  Kaneko  259 

"Within  Our  Reach"  Donna   Day  262 


The  Best  Years  of  Her  Life  Pansye  H.   Powell  216 

What  It  Takes  Kay  Islaub  223 

Second  Best Blanche   Sutherland  229 

The  Part-Time  Heart  Hannah  Smith  248 


The  Deeper  Melody  —  Chapter  7  Alice  Morrey  Bailey  266 


S-ixty  Years  Ago  238 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.  Cannon  239 

Editorial:  Arbor  Day  Velma  N.  Simonsen  240 

Nellie  W.  Neal  Resigns  from  the  General  Board  241 

Notes  to  the  Field:  "A  Centenary  of  Relief  Society"  Out  of  Print 242 

Book  of  Mormon  Reading  Project  242 

Prelude  Music  Florence   Jepperson   Madsen  243 

Books  for  Organists  and  Pianists 244 

Notes  From  the  Field:    Relief  Society  Activities  Margaret  C.  Pickering  268 

From  Near  and  Far  280 


Summer  Fireplace   Elizabeth    Williamson  245 

Let  Your  Table  Tell  a  Story  Helen  S.   Williams  246 

Gardening  for  the  Home  Freezer C.  W.  McCullough  253 

New  Designs  for  Easter  Eggs  256 

Handwork  Hobbies  Bring  Happiness   (Rose  Paskett  Cooke  Thompson)   258 

TV  Viewers  —  Down  in  Front  Eloise  Strinz  265 


"Even  the  Moonlight,"  —  Frontispiece,  by  Eva  Willes  Wangsgaard,  211;  "Stanzas  on  Light," 
by  Mar^hale  Woolsey,  215;  "Forever  Mine,"  by  Delia  Adams  Leitner,  222;  "The  First  Spring 
Crocus,  '  by  Thelma  W.  Groneman,  235;  "It  Happens  Every  Spring,"  by  Verda  Mackay,  247; 
"Directions  for  Gardening,"  by  Maude  Rubin,  257;  "First  Bloom,"  by  Sudie  Stuart  Hager,  257; 
"Desert  Flowers,"  by  Vesta  N.  Lukei,  257;  "Tulips  in  the  Wind,"  by  Evelyn  Fjeldsted,  261;  "It 
Must  Be  Spring,"  by  Hilda  V.  Cameron,  261;  "S-unshine  and  Rain,"  by  Ruth  K.  Kent,  261;  "After 
Long  Years,"  by  Beatrice  Knowlton  Ekman,  264;  "Apprehension,"  by  Alice  Whitson  Norton,  265; 
"Dogwood   Time,"   by  Mary   Gustafson,   279;    "Silent   Return,"    by   Blanch    Kendall    McKey,    279. 


Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah,  Phone  4-2511;  Sub- 
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Fruit  of  the  Loom 




Ultra   sheer   60  gauge,    15  denier 

nylons,    knit   closer   and   stronger 

to  give  you  more  stretch,  more 

wear,   more  snag  resistance  and 

the   dull   finish    you  love! 

Slimming,  accented  seams.     8/4-11* 

Proportioned:   Short,   Average,    Tall. 

ZCMI  H05/£f?y— Downstairs  Store 

Mail  Orders  To: 

Salt  Lake  City  10,  Utah 

Include  3#  postage  for  first 
pair  of  hosiery  and  If  for 
each  additional  pair.  Utah 
residents  add   2%  State  tax. 


«^  iiiii^  ^ 





\*  '^i 



i  -os- 



ibven  the    llioonught 

Eva  Wiiles  Wangsgaard 

Even  the  moonlight  treading  cherry  bloom 
Leaves  prints  invisible  upon  the  white; 
And  sunshine's  nimble  fingers  on  the  loom 
Of  summer  lend  their  urge  to  petal  flight. 
But  sun  of  these:  wild  roses  pink  with  spring, 
Marsh  marigolds,  or  cool  delphiniums, 
Will  burn  their  beauty  on  the  heart  and  bring 
A  prescience  born  of  joy,  when  winter  comes. 
The  goldenrod's  long  brushes  painting  sun 
On  autumn's  scene  outline  the  form  of  grief— 
For  every  petal  lost  a  seed  begun. 
An  April  bud  for  every  fallen  leaf. 
However  deep  the  darkness  where  we  wait 
Our  eyes  will  open  on  a  light  as  great. 

The  Cover:  Night-Blooming  Cereus,  Photograph  by  Josef  Muench 

Frontispiece:  Jefferson  Memorial,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Photograph  by  Ewing  Galloway 

Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

The  Resurrection  of  Jesus 

Elder  Marion  G.  Romney 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

THIS  response  to  an  invitation,  shepherds    the    angel    said,    'Tear 

graciously  extended   by  the  not  ....  For  unto  you  is  born  this 

able   Editor   of   The  Reliei  day  in  the  city  of  David  a  Saviour, 

Society  Magazine,  is  made  in  hu-  which  is  Christ  the  Lord"    (Luke 

mility  and   with   sincere   apprecia-  2:10-11). 

tion.    It  affords  opportunity  to  bear         Second,  that  he  suffer  the  pains 

witness  to  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  of  all  men,  which  he  did,  principal- 

to  a  very  select  group— the  women  ly,  in  Gethsemane,  the  scene  of  his 

of  The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  great  agony.    He  himself  described 

Latter-day  Saints,  and  other  readers  that  suffering  as  being  of  such  in- 

of  this  great  Magazine— and  to  set  tensity  that  it  caused  ^'myself,  even 

forth,  in  part  at  least,  the  basis  up-  God,  the  greatest  of  all,  to  tremble 

on  which  that  witness  stands.  because  of  pain,  and  to  bleed  at 

When  we  speak  of  Jesus  being  every  pore,  and  to  suffer  both  body 

resurrected,  we  mean  that  his  pre-  and  spirit— and  would  that  I  might 

existent  spirit,  which  animated  his  not  drink  the  bitter  cup,  and  shrink 

mortal  body— from  his  birth  in  the  —Nevertheless,    glory    be    to    the 

manger  until  he  died  on  the  cross—  Father,  and  I  partook  and  finished 

re-entered  that  body;  and  they  two,  my  preparations  unto  the  children 

his    spirit    body    and    his   physical  of  men"  (D.  &  C.  19:18-19). 
body,  inseparably  welded  together,         Third,  that  he  give  his  life.    His 

arose  from  the  tomb  an  immortal  death   on   the  cross,   after  having 

soul.  been  rejected  and  betrayed  and  after 

Our  belief  is,  and  we  so  testify,  having  suffered  appalling  indignities, 

that  Jesus  not  only  conquered  death  seems  not  to  be  in  dispute,  even 

for  himself  and  brought  forth  his  among  non-believers.    That  he  gave 

own  glorious  resurrected  body,  but  his  life  voluntarily,  with  the  express 

that  in  so  doing  he  also  brought  purpose  of  taking  it  up  again  in  the 

about  a  universal  resurrection.  This  resurrection,   is   not  so   universally 

was  the  end  and  purpose  of  the  accepted.     Such,    however,    is   the 

mission  to  which  he  was  set  apart  fact.    He  was,  it  is  true,  maliciously 

and  ordained  in  the  great  council  slain  by  wicked  men,  but  all  the 

in  heaven  when  he  was  chosen  to  while  he  held  the  power  to  stay 

be  our  Savior  and  Redeemer.  them.     'T  lay  down  my  life,"  he 

Concerning  his  earthly  ministry,  said,  ''that  I  might  take  it  again, 

his  role  as  Redeemer  required  of  No  man  taketh  it  from  me,  but  I 

him  four  things:  lay  it  down  of  myself.  I  have  pow- 

First,   that   his   pre-mortal   spirit  er  to  lay  it  down,  and  I  have  power 

be  clothed  with  a  mortal  body,  the  to  take  it  again"   (John  10:17-18). 

accomplishment  of  which  was  heav-  This  power  was  inherently  his  by 

en  announced  when  to  the  lowly  virtue  of  his  being  born  of  the  Vir- 



gin  Mary  (a  mortal),  the  Son  of 
God  (an  immortal  celestialized  Be- 

Having  thus  taken  upon  himself 
mortality,  having  suffered  for  the 
sins  of  all  men  in  Gethsemane,  and 
having  given  his  life  on  the  cross, 
there  remained  for  him  but  to  break 
the  bonds  of  death— the  fourth  and 
last  requirement— to  complete  his 
earthly  mission  as  Redeemer.  That 
the  whole  of  his  mortal  Hfe  moved 
toward  this  consummation  he  had 
repeatedly  taught.  It  was  fore- 
shadowed in  his  statement  about 
laying  down  his  life  and  taking  it 
up  again.  To  the  sorrowing  Martha 
he  had  said,  ''I  am  the  resurrection, 
and  the  life"  (John  11:25);  and  to 
the  Jews,  ''Destroy  this  temple,  and 
in  three  days  I  will  raise  it  up" 
(John  2:19). 

J^ESURRECTION  was  so  for- 
eign to  human  experience  that 
even  his  believing  followers  had  dif- 
ficulty comprehending  it.  The  doc- 
trine, however,  had  been  heard 
even  by  the  crucifiers.  Being  dis- 
turbed by  it,  they  came  to  Pilate 
"Saying,  Sir,  we  remember  that  that 
deceiver  said,  while  he  was  yet 
alive.  After  three  days  I  will  rise 
again."  So  with  Pilate's  consent 
they  set  a  watch  ''lest  his  disciples 
come  by  night,  and  steal  him  away, 
and  say  unto  the  people,  He  is  ris- 
en from  the  dead"  (Mt.  27:63-64). 
Thus  it  came  about  that  these  hire- 
ling guards  unwittingly  became  wit- 
nesses to  the  opening  of  the  tomb 
by  the  angel  (Mt.  28:2-4),  the  final 
preliminary  to  the  appearing  of  the 
"risen  Lord." 

The  evidence  that  Jesus  was  resur- 
rected is  conclusive.  Five  times  on 
the  Sunday  following  his  crucifixion 


on   Friday   afternoon,    he    revealed 

First  to  behold  him  was  Mary 
Magdalene.  Early  in  the  morning 
Peter  and  John,  having  verified  the 
fact  that  the  body  of  Jesus  was  not 
in  the  tomb,  went  away.  But  Mary 
lingered  in  the  garden  weeping. 
Turning  back  from  the  empty 
tomb,  she  "saw  Jesus  standing,  and 
knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus.  Jesus 
saith  unto  her.  Woman,  why  weep- 
est  thou?  whom  seekest  thou?  She, 
supposing  him  to  be  the  gardener, 
saith  .  .  .  Sir,  if  thou  have  borne 
him  hence,  tell  me  where  thou  hast 
laid  him,  and  I  will  take  him  away. 
Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Mary."  Recog- 
nizing his  voice,  "She  turned  her- 
self" as  if  to  touch  him,  saying, 
"Rabboni;  which  is  to  say,  Master" 
(John  20:14-16).  Tenderly  restrain- 
ing her,  he  continued,  "Touch  me 
not;  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  my 
Father:  but  go  to  my  brethren,  and 
say  unto  them,  I  ascend  unto  my 
Father,  and  your  Father;  and  to  my 
God,  and  your  God"  (John  20:17). 

Later,  about  sunrise,  "Mary  the 
mother  of  James,  and  Salome,"  and 
other  women  went  to  the  tomb  with 
spices  to  prepare  the  body  for  final 
burial.  They  found  the  tomb  open 
and  the  body  gone.  To  their  con- 
sternation, they  were  met  by  two 
men  in  shining  garments,  who  said, 
"Why  seek  ye  the  living  among  the 
dead?  He  is  not  here,  but  is  risen" 
(Luke  24:5-6).  As  they  went  to 
tell  his  disciples,  Jesus  himself  met 
them,  "saying.  All  hail.  And  they 
came  and  held  him  by  the  feet,  and 
worshipped  him"  (Mt.  28:9). 

Later  the  same  day,  as  Cleopas 
and  another  journeyed  to  Emmaus, 
Jesus,  unrecognized,  drew  near  and 
went   with    them.      Inquiring   into 



the  nature  of  their  conversation, 
they  repeated  to  him  the  reports  of 
the  women.  At  their  seeming 
doubt  he  said,  ''O  fools,  and  slow 
of  heart  to  believe  all  that  the 
prophets  have  spoken."  Then  op- 
ened he  their  understanding  of  the 
scriptures  concerning  him.  Tarry- 
ing at  Emmaus,  ''he  took  bread,  and 
blessed  it,  and  brake,  and  gave  to 
them.  And  their  eyes  were  opened, 
and  they  knew  him;  and  he  van- 
ished out  of  their  sight."  (See  Luke 

In  the  evening  as  the  disciples 
heard  the  reports  that  Jesus  had 
appeared  to  Simon  and  to  Cleopas, 
''Jesus  himself  stood  in  the  midst 
of  them."  To  quiet  their  fears  and 
give  assurance  that  he  was  not  a 
spirit,  he  showed  them  his  hands, 
his  feet,  and  his  side,  saying,  "It  is 
I  myself:  handle  me,  and  see;  for  a 
spirit  hath  not  flesh  and  bones,  as 
ye  see  me  have  ....  And  while 
they  yet  believed  not  for  joy,  and 
wondered,  he  said  unto  them.  Have 
ye  here  any  meat?  And  they  gave 
him  a  piece  of  a  broiled  fish,  and  of 
an  honeycomb.  And  he  took  it, 
and  did  eat  before  them."  (See  Luke 
24:36-43;  John  20:19-23.) 

npHUS,  on  this  eventful  day,  did 
his  former  associates  behold 
his  glorious  resurrected  body.  Not 
only  did  they  see  him,  but  they 
heard  his  voice  and  felt  the  wounds 
in  his  hands,  feet,  and  side.  In 
their  presence  he  handled  food  and 
ate  of  it.  They  knew  of  a  surety 
that  he  had  taken  up  the  body 
which  they  themselves  had  placed 
in  the  tomb.  Their  sorrow  was 
turned  to  joy  by  the  knowledge  that 
he  lived,  an  immortal  soul. 

For    forty    days    he    ministered 

among  his  disciples  in  the  Holy 
Land.  He  appeared  unto  his  dis-- 
ciples  again  at  Jerusalem,  when 
Thomas  was  present,  and  on  the 
shore  of  the  Sea  of  Tiberias,  where 
he  directed  them  in  casting  for  fish, 
invited  them  to  dine,  gave  them 
food  to  eat  which  he  himself  had 
prepared  on  a  fire  of  coals,  and  in- 
structed them  in  the  ministry.  On 
a  mountain  in  Galilee  he  commis- 
sioned the  eleven  to  teach  the  gos- 
pel to  all  nations.  And  finally,  after 
he  had  blessed  them  at  Bethany, 
they  saw  him  "carried  up  into  heav- 
en." (See  Luke  24:50-53.) 

His  mission  being  ended  in  Pal- 
estine, he  paid  a  visit  to  the  Ne- 
phites  in  America,  that  they,  too, 
might  know  of  his  resurrection.  His 
Father  introduced  him  to  them  as 
"my  Beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am 
well  pleased."  When  they  saw  him 
descend  from  heaven,  they  de- 
scribed him  as  "a  Man  .  .  .  clothed 
in  a  white  robe."  He  announced 
himself  as  "Jesus  Christ,  whom  the 
prophets  testified  shall  come  into 
the  world."  They  saw  him,  they 
heard  him,  and  at  his  invitation 
they  all  "went  forth,  and  thrust 
their  hands  into  his  side,  and  did 
feel  the  prints  of  the  nails  in  his 
hands  and  in  his  feet,"  and  knew 
of  a  surety  and  did  testify  that  he 
was  the  resurrected  Redeemer. 
(See  3  Nephi  11:7-15.) 

As  he  revealed  himself,  after  his 
resurrection,  to  his  followers  in  the 
Holy  Land  and  to  the  Nephites  in 
America,  so  he  has  revealed  him- 
self in  our  day.  Indeed,  this  dis- 
pensation opened  with  a  glorious 
vision  in  which  the  Prophet  Joseph 
was  visited  by  the  Father  and  the 
Son.  He  heard  their  voices,  for  they 
both  spoke  to  him.  He  was  given 


a  personal  introduction  to  the  res-  am  he  who  Hveth,  I  am  he  who  was 

urrected  Jesus  by  the  Father  him-  slain;  I  am  your  advocate  with  the 

self.    He  beheld  their  glorious  bod-  Father."  (D.  &  C.  110:1-4). 

ies   and   afterwards   thus   described  From     the     foregoing     accounts 

them:  'The  Father  has  a  body  of  come  our  mental   pictures  of   the 

flesh  and  bones  as  tangible  as  man's;  resurrected  Jesus.    But  the  convic- 

the  Son  also"  (D.  &  C.  130:22).  tions  we  have,  our  testimonies  that 

Some  twelve  years  later  the  Sav-  in  the  spirit  world  he  was  chosen 

ior    revealed    himself    to    Joseph  and  ordained  to  be  our  Redeemer; 

Smith,    Jr.,    Sidney    Rigdon    being  that  he  was  born  of  Mary,  the  Only 

with   him.     They   two  bore  testi-  Begotten  Son  of  God  in  the  flesh; 

mony  'That  he  lives!     For,"  said  that  he  suffered  for  our  transgres- 

they,   "we  saw  him,   even  on  the  sions;  that  on  the  cross  he  volun- 

right  hand  of  God;  and  we  heard  tarily  gave  his  life  for  us;  that  in 

the  voice  bearing  record  that  he  is  the  resurrection  he  broke  the  bonds 

the  Only  Begotten  of  the  Father"  of   death   for  himself  and   for   all 

(D.  &  C.  76:22-23).  men;    that   he   arose   an    immortal 

In     the    Kirtland    Temple    the  soul,   the  first  fruits  of  the  resur- 

Prophet  saw  him  again,  this  time  rection,    appearing    first    to    Mary 

in  company  with  Oliver  Cowdery:  Magdalene  and  then  to  the  others 

"The   veil   was   taken   from   our  as  recorded;  that  he  visited  the  Ne- 

minds,"  they  wrote,  "and  the  eyes  phites;    and   that   he   has   revealed 

of  our  understanding  were  opened,  himself  in  this  dispensation  to  Jo- 

We  saw  the  Lord  standing  upon  seph    Smith    and    others— do    not 

the  breastwork  of  the  pulpit,  before  come   alone   from   these   accounts, 

us;  and  under  his  feet  was  a  paved  Our    own    convictions    and    testi- 

work   of   pure   gold,   in   color  like  monies  come  by  the  witness  of  the 

amber.    His  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  Holy  Spirit,   the  Holy  Ghost,   by 

fire;  the  hair  of  his  head  was  white  whose   power   we   know   these   ac- 

like    the    pure    snow;    his    counte-  counts  are  true,  and  by  whose  pow- 

nance  shone  above  the  brightness  er  we  become  witnesses  to  the  truth 

of  the  sun;  and  his  voice  was  as  the  of  the  recorded  events  along  with 

sound  of  the  rushing  of  great  wat-  those  who  experienced  them.     To 

ers,  even  the  voice  of  Jehovah,  say-  obtain  and  bear  this  witness  is  our 

ing:  I  am  the  first  and  the  last;  I  mission. 

»  ♦  ■ 

Stanzas  on  JLight 

Maryhale  Woolsey 

I.  Inseparable 

How  wrong  to  think  of  shadows 
Existing  where  deep  night  is! 
There  cannot  be  a  shadow 
Except  where  light  is. 

II.  "Also  the  Morning  ..." 
Never  was  there  a  night,  but  it  made  way 
For  rosy  dawning  and  the  gold  of  day. 
Light  never  fails  returning;  have  no  fear, 
Death's  darkness  will  be  brief,  with  morning  near. 

The  Best  Years  of  Her  Life 

Pansye  H.  Powell 

AUNT  Tabitha's  rocking  chair 
had  sat  in  the  same  spot  in 
the  Higgins  hving  room  for 
over  seventy  years;  except,  that  is, 
for  those  brief  intervals  of  house- 
cleaning  when  it  had  gone  to  the 
front  porch  along  with  the  horse- 
hair sofa,  the  whatnots,  and  the 
heavy  rag  carpets.  Aunt  Tabitha's 
mother  had  brought  the  chair  with 
her  from  Kentucky  when  she 
moved  to  Missouri  as  a  bride  in 

It  was  not  a  particularly  hand- 
some chair,  but  it  was  comfortable 
and  fitted  to  Aunt  Tabitha's  bony 
form.  She  regularly  made  new  cov- 
ers for  the  plump  cushion  that 
always  lay  on  its  seat  and  for  the 
back-rest  that  eased  the  straight- 
ness  of  its  back;  at  intervals  she 
added  a  coat  of  paint  to  freshen 
the  wood.  At  various  times  it  had 
been  painted  red,  blue,  and  green, 
as  her  fancy  dictated.  Its  redeem- 
ing quality  as  a  piece  of  furniture 
was  that  it  was  comfortable  for  her, 
and  that  it  was  unobtrusively  a  part 
of  the  general  decor  of  the  room. 
It  was  old— but  so  was  Aunt  Ta- 

She  was  as  old-fashioned  in  ap- 
pearance as  her  chair.  She  wore 
her  still  brownish  hair  in  a  bun  on 
the  top  of  her  head,  severely  plain; 
she  dressed  as  she  had  for  the  past 
fifty  years— in  dark  print  house 
dresses  at  home,  and  in  simple  black 
away  from  home. 

Everyone  in  Mooresville  knew 
Aunt  Tabitha.  She  had  always 
lived  there,  except  for  a  brief  year 
when    she   had   attended   a   young 

Page  216 

ladies'  seminary  in  Grantsborough, 
twenty  miles  away.  Her  stay  at  the 
seminary  had  ended  abruptly  when 
her  older  sister  Mandy  married. 
There  was  no  one  else  to  stay  with 
her  mother  and  father  but  Tabitha. 
She  had  gone  home  willingly 
enough  and  had  eased  the  last  years 
of  her  aging  parents  without  much 
thought  of  herself. 

No  suitors  had  vied  for  her  hand. 
As  the  years  went  by,  she  had 
found  much  affection  in  Mandy's 
growing  family,  becoming  friend 
and  confidante  to  her  nieces  and 
nephews  and  later  to  Mandy's 
grandchildren.  She  had  lived  quiet- 
ly, and  most  people  thought  hap- 
pily following  the  unbroken  tenor 
of  Mooresville  ways. 

Then  Aunt  Tabitha  fell  one  win- 
ter day  and  broke  her  hip. 

Fortunately  for  her,  she  fell  on 
her  front  steps  and  was  seen  by  a 
neighbor  passing  by.  When  Dr. 
Starks  arrived,  he  looked  very  seri- 
ous and  ordered  Aunt  Tabitha  tak- 
en to  the  Gainsborough  hospital  at 
once.  Two  hours  later,  she  was  in 
a  hospital  bed,  her  little  house  left 
lonely  and  locked  against  a  possible 

Mandy  and  her  family  did  all 
they  could  to  make  the  hospital 
stay  pleasant.  At  the  end  of  two 
weeks.  Dr.  Starks  held  a  private 
conference  with  Mandy,  the  gist  of 
which  was  that  Aunt  Tabitha's  hip 
would  be  a  long  time  healing,  and 
she  must  not  live  alone,  now  or 
ever  again.  Next  time  she  fell,  she 
might  not  be  so  lucky. 



lyi ANDY  called  a  meeting  of  her 
family,  unknown  to  Aunt 
Tabitha.  Who  could  move  out  to 
Mooresville  to  live  with  Aunt  Ta- 
bitha? Or  should  they  talk  to  her 
and  convince  her  she  should  come 
to  live  in  the  city  with  one  of  them? 

All  the  time  the  family  had  sat 
around  debating  these  questions, 
the  youngest  grandchild,  Ted 
Browning,  had  sat  without  speak- 
ing. Everyone  knew  he  was  Aunt 
Tabitha's  favorite  of  Mandy's 
grandchildren;  he  had  spent  weeks 
of  his  adolescent  vacations  out  with 
Aunt  Tabitha,  and  she  had  con- 
tributed liberally  to  his  college 
training  in  business  administration. 
Now,  he  was  successfully  estab- 
lished in  a  growing  brokerage  busi- 
ness and  about  to  be  married  to  a 
young  schoolteacher. 

With  all  this  before  him,  no  one 
expected  that  he  would  even  think 
of  setting  up  housekeeping  in 
Mooresville,  so  everyone  was  much 
surprised  when  he  said,  "Maybe 
Ellen  and  I  could  go  out  there 
when  we  are  married." 

''Better  speak  to  Ellen  about 
that,"  his  sister  Irene  protested. 
'Til  bet  she'd  have  a  different 

"How  could  you  manage  the  trip 
to  town  every  day?"  Mandy  ques- 

"It's  no  farther  than  people  in 
New  York  and  Chicago  drive  to 
work  every  day.  And  if  the  roads 
are  impassable,  there's  that  little 
train  that  makes  the  trip  in  every 
morning— and  there  are  buses." 

"But  the  house  .  .  ."  began  his 
older  sister  Marion. 

"Oh,  Ellen  and  I  could  fix  that 
up.  I'll  bet  she'd  get  a  kick  out 
of  all  those  antiquated  belongings. 

Anyway,   I'll  ask  her   tonight  and 
we'll  see  what  then." 

So  the  family  conference  broke 
up,  with  the  other  nieces  and  neph- 
ews secretly  relieved  that  there 
might  just  be  a  way  out  of  the  di- 
lemma that  would  require  no  sac- 
rifice on  their  parts. 

When  Aunt  Tabitha  was  ap- 
proached on  the  idea  of  moving  in- 
to town  with  Mandy,  she  registered 
a  decided  negative.  "Absolutely 
not,"  she  declared.  "I'm  not  going 
to  move  out  of  the  only  home  I 
have  ever  had.  I  belong  in  Moores- 
ville and  there's  where  I'm  going  to 

In  spite  of  pain  and  discomfort, 
she  was  still  the  old  Aunt  Tabitha, 
with  plenty  of  fire  yet. 

That  night  Ted  went  to  see  her 
during  the  evening  visiting  hours. 
Ellen  went  with  him.  Ted  ushered 
her  proudly  into  Aunt  Tabitha's 
room,  where  the  elderly  woman  lay 
patiently  suffering  the  discomforts 
of  her  inactivity. 

She  smiled  as  they  entered  and 
put  out  her  hand  to  Ted.  "Well, 
Ted,"  she  said,  "it's  good  of  you 
to  come  to  see  your  old  auntie 
again.  And  this  time  you've  brought 
Ellen.   How  are  you,  my  dear?" 

"I'm  just  fine,"  Ellen  spoke 
cheerily.  "And  you're  looking  ever 
so  well." 

"I'm  doing  all  right,  I  guess;  but 
it's  a  long  time  to  be  lying  here  and 
nobody  in  my  house  to  keep  the 
cobwebs  down." 

"That's  just  what  we've  come  to 
see  you  about,"  Ted  hastened  to 
put  in.  "How  would  you  like  for 
me  and  Ellen  to  move  into  the 
house  and  help  you  with  every- 



Aunt  Tabitha's  face  broke  into 
smiles.  'I'd  rather  have  you  and 
Ellen  than  anyone  else  I  know/' 
she  said,  "but  are  you  sure  you  want 
to  do  that?  It's  not  a  very  fine 
house,  you  know.  It's  warm  in 
winter  and  cool  in  summer;  but  it's 
not  very  fancy  for  a  young  couple 
to  go  into." 

''Oh,  we've  talked  it  all  out,"  El- 
len answered.  "If  you're  wiUing, 
Ted  will  drive  me  down  tonight 
and  we'll  look  it  over.  We'll  need 
your  key  to  get  in,  of  course. 
Would  you  mind  if  we  did  some  re- 

"I  guess  a  bride  would  want 
things  to  be  fresh  and  clean,"  Aunt 
Tabitha  agreed.  "You  go  ahead. 
The  doctor  says  Fm  to  be  here  an- 
other four  weeks,  and  then  he  will 
let  me  go  home." 

Two  weeks  later  they  had  the 
wedding.  Ellen  and  Ted  came  to 
see  Aunt  Tabitha  before  they  left 
on  their  honeymoon  trip,  which 
they  were  shortening  in  order  to 
have  time  to  arrange  the  house  be- 
fore Aunt  Tabitha  returned  to  it. 

"We'll  have  everything  ready  for 
you  when  you  can  go  home,"  they 
promised.  "Don't  worry  about 

Aunt  Tabitha  smiled  after  them, 
as  they  walked  off  together,  Ted's 
arm  possessively  about  Ellen's  waist. 

T\7HEN  the  day  came  that  Aunt 
Tabitha  was  to  be  allowed 
to  go  home  from  the  hospital,  Ted 
arranged  for  an  ambulance  to  take 
her  to  Mooresville.  She  was  care- 
fully moved  and  returned  to  her 
little  home  and  into  a  hospital  bed 
which  nad  been  placed  in  her  room. 
Too  tired  to  do  more  than  sleep, 
she  did  not  look  around  her  until 

she  awakened  the  next  morning  to 
see  the  sun  streaming  into  her  bed- 
room windows  as  it  had  always  done 
and  to  hear  robins  chirping  on  the 
lawn  as  they  had  done  all  her  life. 

She  moved  her  head  carefully, 
looking  at  all  the  familiar  furnish- 
ings of  her  room.  The  wallpaper 
was  different,  but  she  liked  the 
freshness  of  the  tiny  sprigs  of  sweet- 
peas  and  green  leaves.  The  curtains 
were  new  crisscross  tie-backs  of 
spotless  white  organdy;  but  the 
furniture  was  the  same  —  her  high 
bureau  with  the  little  mirror  atop; 
her  marble-topped  washstand;  and 
her  chintz-covered  box  that  made  a 
seat  under  the  south  window.  On 
her  little  bedside  table  stood  a  tiny 
brass  figure  with  a  bouffant  skirt 
which  she  discovered  to  be  a  bell. 
In  looking  at  it,  she  accidentally 
rang  the  bell. 

Immediately  the  door  of  her 
room  opened  gently  and  a  cheerful 
voice  said,  "Good  morning.  Aunt 
Tabitha.  How  are  you?"  Ellen, 
crisp  in  starched  pink  gingham,  her 
face  smiling,  came  in. 

"Fm  just  fine,"  Aunt  Tabitha 
said,  "and  I  like  the  way  you  have 
made  my  room  so  nice  for  me." 

"We  put  your  own  bed  away 
until  you  are  able  to  leave  the  hos- 
pital bed.  It  will  be  ready  to  put 
up  for  you  as  soon  as  you  are  able 
to  get  around.  Shall  I  bring  your 
breakfast  now?  Here,  you  freshen 
up  a  bit  while  I  get  your  breakfast." 

Aunt  Tabitha  felt  a  glow  of  hap- 
piness and  contentment.  Surely 
this  was  to  be  the  best  time  of  her 
life.  Young  people  with  her  in 
her  own  home.  She  ate  a  hearty 
breakfast.  When  Dr.  Starks  came 
the    next    day,    he    promised    she 



sluoTild  be  up  and  about  in  a  chair 
within  a  week. 

j  ]f  UST  as  he  promised,  a  week  later, 
I  "^  Aunt  Tabitha  had  a  coming-out 
iparty.  Only  Ted  and  Ellen  and 
Dr.  Starks  were  present,  but  the  oc- 
casion was  a  merry  one  for  all  that. 
Dressed  in  a  pretty  blue  robe  over 
her  gown,  her  hair  carefully  combed 
into  a  neat  bun  on  top  her  head, 
she  was  moved  carefully  from  the 
bed  into  a  wheelchair,  and  Ted 
pushed  her  slowly  from  her  bed- 
room into  the  narrow  hall  of  the 
^  little  house  and  down  it  to  the  liv- 
ing room. 

Aunt  Tabitha  gasped  with  sur- 
prise when  she  saw  what  had  hap- 
pened to  the  living  room.  The  room- 
size  rag  carpets  had  been  taken  up 
and  the  floor  polished  into  a  mir- 
ror. A  large  oval  rug  had  been 
made  from  the  carpet,  and  small 
throw  rugs  from  the  same  source 
filled  in  at  doorways  to  the  hall 
and  dining  room.  New  wallpaper 
and  paint  had  brought  freshness. 
Instead  of  the  lace  curtains  that 
had  hung  at  the  big  bay  window, 
long  full  drapes  were  pulled  back 
to  let  in  sunshine  and  air.  Ellen 
had  brought  her  spinet  piano;  the 
horsehair  sofa  had  been  cleaned  and 
rubbed  until  the  rosewood  gleamed. 
^  The  whatnots  stood  in  the  corners 
^  as  before,  but  the  room  was  differ- 
ent and  more  charming  than  it  had 
ever  been. 

Ted  pushed  Aunt  Tabitha  on 
through  the  dining  room,  which 
was  unchanged  except  for  paper 
and  paint,  and  into  the  kitchen, 
which  gleamed  with  a  new  electric 
stove  and  refrigerator  and  linoleum. 
Aunt  Tabitha  drew  in  her  breath 
in   astonishment.   "Well/'   she   ex- 

claimed, 'Td  no  idea  you  were  do- 
ing all  this." 

"I  hope  you  don't  mind,"  Ted 
anxiously  commented.  "We  thought 
we  might  as  well  be  using  some  of 
our  things.  Wc  kept  all  yours  and 
put  them  in  the  shed  behind  the 
house,  so  they'll  be  there  if  you 
ever  want  them." 

Aunt  Tabitha  did  not  answer. 

"She's  growing  tired,"  Dr.  Starks 
said,  "Musn't  keep  her  up  long 
this  first  time.  Tomorrow  maybe 
she  can  stay  up  a  little  longer." 

They  took  her  back  into  her  own 
room,  carefully  transferring  her 
from  chair  to  bed  and  lowering  the 
back  of  the  bed  so  she  could  drop 
off  to  sleep  if  she  wished. 

The  next  day  Aunt  Tabitha 
seemed  listless  and  had  a  poor  ap- 
petite. She  did  not  want  to  get  up 
into  her  wheelchair.  She  lay 
apathetically,  speaking  only  when 
spoken  to  and  then  only  in  mono- 
syllables. Ellen  was  distraught. 
Finally  she  called  Dr.  Starks. 

"I  don't  know  what's  the  mat- 
ter," she  said.  "Aunt  Tabitha 
seemed  to  be  getting  along  so  well 
—and  now  today  she  hardly  touched 
her  breakfast  and  lunch,  and  she 
just  lies  there,  staring  at  the  ceiling 
and  doesn't  even  want  to  talk." 

"I  think  she  had  a  little  too 
much  activity  yesterday."  Dr. 
Starks  did  not  seem  concerned. 
"Let  her  rest  and  don't  bother  her. 
Tomorrow  she'll  likely  be  herself 

Ellen  worried  over  Aunt  Tabitha 
until  Ted  came  home  at  six.  She 
had  spent  the  afternoon  preparing 
a  delicious  chicken  dinner,  because 
she  knew  Aunt  Tabitha  was  espe- 
cially fond  of  dumplings.  She  had 
gathered    fresh    flowers    from    the 



garden  she  was  so  carefully  tending 
for  Aunt  Tabitha  and  had  placed  a 
big  bouquet  of  daisies  and  sweet- 
peas  on  Aunt  Tabitha's  table.  Even 
these  had  not  elicited  any  response 
from  her.  She  had  glanced  at  them 
as  Ellen  brought  them  in  and  had 
then  looked  away. 

I7LLEN  went  out  to  meet  Ted  in 
the  driveway.  She  was  almost 
in  tears.  'Ted/'  she  whispered,  *'l 
don't  know  what's  the  matter  with 
Aunt  Tabitha.  She's  so  different 
today.  Do  you  think  she  may  be 

Ted's  alarmed  expression  showed 
the  sincerity  of  his  concern. 
"What's  happened?"  he  demanded, 
as  he  hurried  to  the  side  door. 

Ted  stepped  softly  through  the 
doorway  into  Aunt  Tabitha's  room. 
She  looked  up  at  him  with  an  ex- 
pressionless face.  He  tried  to  be 
cheerful  and  to  act  as  though 
everything  was  as  usual. 

"Hello,  Aunt  Tabitha.  How  are 
you  tonight?"  he  asked,  in  what  he 
tried  to  make  his  usual  tone. 

She  looked  at  him  and  spoke 
hollowly,  "Ted,  I  am  not  so  well." 

"Do  you  hurt  somewhere?  Shall 
I  get  Dr.  Starks?" 

"No,  he  can't  help  me.  I  guess 
I'm  just  not  meant  to  get  well, 

"But  you  were  getting  well,  un- 
til we  put  you  into  that  wheelchair 
yesterday.  Did  we  hurt  you?  Did 
we  hurt  your  hip?" 

"No,  Ted.  I  wasn't  hurt.  You 
didn't  hurt  my  hip  at  all." 

Ted  knew  Aunt  Tabitha.  Some- 
thing was  wrong,  and  she  wouldn't 
be  all  right  until  what  was  wrong 
was  made  right.  But  what  was 

Aunt  Tabitha  motioned  Ted  to 
sit  in  the  chair  beside  her  bed.  For 
a  moment  she  did  not  speak,  then 
she  said,  "Ted,  when  I  am  gone,  I 
want  you  to  have  this  house  and 
everything  in  it." 

"Thank  you.  Aunt  Tabitha.  But 
that's  something  to  be  thought 
about  a  long  time  from  now." 

She  continued  as  though  he  had 
not  spoken  "...  on  one  condi- 

"What  is  that.  Aunt  Tabitha?" 

"On  the  condition  that  you 
always  keep  everything  that  is  in 
the  house.  I  would  not  like  to  go,  • 
knowing  my  things  were  not  ap- 
preciated." There  were  tears  in  her 

"I  can  assure  you.  Aunt  Tabitha, 
Ellen  and  I  will  observe  your  wish- 
es in  this  matter.  We  have  done 
so,  and  we  will  continue  to  do  so." 

She  looked  at  him  sadly. 

"Well,"  he  demanded,  "haven't 
we?"  • 

Aunt  Tabitha  did  not  answer  his 
question.  Instead  she  turned  her 
head  wearily  and  motioned  him  to 

TT  was  two  o'clock  in   the  night 

when  Ellen  awakened  Ted.  She 
was  shaking  him  vigorously.  At  first 
he  could  not  remember  what  it  was 
she  was  talking  about.  "Ted,"  she 
was  whispering,  "I  think  I  know 
what's  the  matter." 

"Matter?"  he  sleepily  rejoined. 
"What's  the  matter?" 

"The  chair,"  she  cried  excitedly. 
"It's  the  chair.    I  forgot  about  it." 

Ted  was  wide  awake  now.  "Of 
course  that's  it,"  he  agreed.  "We 
should  have  remembered  it  was  her 
pride  and  joy.  Well,  tomorrow  I'll 
dig  it  out  of  the  back  shed  and  put 
it  back  into  the  living  room." 



"Oh,  but  Ted/'  Ellen  wailed, 
''that  awful  green  will  just  spoil  all 
I've  tried  to  do  in  the  living  room— 
and  there  are  layers  and  layers  of 
paint   under  that. 

"Makes  no  difference,"  Ted  stout- 
ly rejoined;  "if  all  it  takes  to  make 
Aunt  Tabitha  happy  and  well  is 
that  old  rocker,  in  it  comes,  green 
or  not.  I'll  get  it  out  before  I  leave 
for  the  office." 

Ellen  gave  up  the  struggle.  Ted 
could  be  very  firm  when  he  chose. 
And  somehow  she  rather  liked  his 
attitude  toward  Aunt  Tabitha. 

True  to  his  word,  Ted  located 
the  old  rocker  in  the  back  shed  the 
next  morning.  It  needed  dusting, 
so  Ellen  cleaned  it  thoroughly, 
shaking  the  seat  pillow  and  the 
back  rest  to  make  them  more  pre- 
sentable. She  placed  it  by  the  win- 
dow where  Aunt  Tabitha  could  not 
fail  to  see  it  when  she  awakened. 

AN  hour  later,  there  was  a  ring 
from  Aunt  Tabitha's  room.  El- 
len found  her  sitting  up  straight  in 
bed,  her  eyes  full  of  life,  as  she 
glanced  from  the  chair  to  Ellen  and 
back  again. 

"Where'd  that  chair  come  from?" 
she  demanded.  "I  thought  you  had 
thrown  it  away." 

"Oh,  now.  Aunt  Tabitha,"  El- 
len answered  gently,  "we  haven't 
thrown  away  anything  of  yours.  I 
just  moved  the  chair  out  of  the  liv- 
ing room  temporarily." 

"It's  the  one  thing  in  this  house 
that  I  love  most  of  all/'  Aunt  Tab- 
itha said.  "When  I  thought  you 
had  done  something  with  it,  I  just 
felt  I'd  lost  a  lifelong  friend.  Now, 
I  know  you  will  love  and  care  for 
this  house  as  I  always  have." 

Ellen  was  soon  on  the  telephone, 
calhng  Ted's  office.  "Ted,"  she 
chirped,  "everything's  all  right.  It 
was  the  chair  all  the  time.  She 
thought  we  had  disposed  of  it— 
that  was  all  that  was  the  matter." 

"Is  she  going  to  get  up  today?" 
he  queried. 

"Is  she?  She's  up  now— sitting 
in  the  rocking  chair,  in  the  living 
room.  Goodbye  now.  I'd  better 
go  in  there,  before  she  falls  out." 

Back  in  the  living  room,  Ellen 
found  Aunt  Tabitha  looking  around 
her  with  a  puzzled  expression. 
"What's  wrong,  Aunt  Tabitha?" 
she  asked. 

"You  know,  Ellen,"  Aunt  Tab- 
itha answered,  "I  think  this  chair 
doesn't  look  right  in  this  room. 
Wrong  color.  My  mother  told  me 
once  that  this  chair  is  really  made 
of  fine  walnut.  Couldn't  we  have 
the  paint  removed  and  the  natural 
wood  brought  out  again?" 

Ellen's  smile  was  radiant.  "Won- 
derful," she  beamed.  "You  just  sit 
there  quietly  until  I  come  back. 
I'll  call  Stone  and  Grooms  and 
have  them  pick  up  the  chair  today. 
They'll  have  it  back  in  no  time." 

Left  to  herself.  Aunt  Tabitha 
looked  about  her  contentedly.  The 
room  was  ever  so  much  nicer  than 
it  had  been  when  she  went  to  the 
hospital.  She  patted  the  arms  of 
her  httle  rocker  gently,  picturing 
it  as  it  would  be  when  it  came  back 
from  the  furniture  man.  She  would 
make  new  covers  for  it  herself— 
after  Ellen  chose  the  material,  of 
course.  She  smiled  happily  to  her- 
self. These  would  be  the  best  days 
of  her  life,  after  all. 

Then,  carefully,  ever  so  carefully, 
she  began  to  rock  slowly. 

Willard  Luce 


CJorever    1 1  Line 

DeJJa  Adams  Leitner 

This  is  the  old  home  place,  and  here 
I  come  returning,  worn  with  travel  stains; 
Strangers  to  me  possess  these  verdant  fields, 
But  something  mine  forever  here  remains. 

The  apple  trees  in  petaled  fragrance  stand, 
The  sheltered  garden  pool  in  willov/  shade; 
The  old  stone  fence,  clothed  in  its  ivy  robe. 
Recalls  my  father's  toil  and  what  he  made. 

I  pause  awhile,  relive  my  carefree  youth; 
I  shall  go  on — perhaps  return  no  more. 
But  from  this  tryst  with  memory  I  shall  take 
Comfort  for  sunset  years — a  treasure  store. 

Page  222 

What  It  Takes 

Kay  Ishuh 

MAUREEN  got  up  as  soon  as  suspected  the  girl  was  on  the  verge 

the  alarm  went  oflE.     She  of  hysteria,  and  as  they  sat  down 

moved    automatically    to  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  she  had 

close  the  window  and  then  around  taken  one  of  Beverly's  hands  and 

to  Harvey's  bed.  "Harvey!  Wake  up,  said,  "We're  so  happy  you  came  to 

honey!  It's  six-thirty."  The  last  was  be  with  us,  Beverly.  We  all  want 

lost  in  a  yawn.  you    to   be   as   happy   as   possible 

In    the  bathroom   she  surveyed  here." 

herself  in  the  mirror.    If  there  was  Beverly's  eyes  had  clouded  with 

any  comfort  in  being  forty,  it  was  tears,   and   her   "thank   you"    had 

to  be  forty  and  not  look  it.  She  had  been  barely  audible, 

very   few   wrinkles,   and   the   new  "And  we're  all  so  delighted  about 

haircut  certainly  minimized  the  ef-  the  baby  .  .  .  ."    But  Maureen  had 

feet  of  gray  that  was  just  beginning  not  gone  on,  because  Beverly,  with 

at  her  temples.    Maureen  was  grate-  a   quick  gesture,   had   pushed   her 

ful  that  she  did  not  look  as  tired  dark  hair  back  from  her  face,  and 

as  she  felt.  She  was  bone-tired,  dog-  the  eyes  that  met  Maureen's  had 

tired,  several  varieties  of  tired.  held  a  look  of  wild  apprehension. 

It  wasn't  just  that  she  had  been  "Yes,    the    baby.     My    mother 

up  with  Dickie  at  least  half  a  dozen  died  .  .  .  ."    She  could  not  speak 

times  during  the  night.  Even  after  for  a  moment  and  her  throat  moved 

his    coughing   quieted   down,   and  convulsively.  "She  died  when  I  was 

she  got  back  into  bed,  she  couldn't  born." 

sleep.  Her  thoughts  kept  going  to  Maureen  had  moved  quickly  and 

the  dark-eyed  girl  sleeping  in  the  put  her  arm  around  the  trembling 

room  that  used  to  be  John's  before  girl.  "They  have  so  many  methods 

he  went  overseas.  to  make  childbirth  safer  now,  and 

John's  wife  had  been  with  them  we'll  get  a  good  doctor,"  she  had 

a  month  now,  and  she  still  seemed  comforted  her  as  she  helped  lay  out 

as  tense  and  frightened  as  she  had  her  night  things,  and  saw  her  safe- 

the  night  she  arrived.  She  had  been  ly  in  bed. 

weary  and  bewildered  that  night,  Beverly  had  seemed  calmer  the 

and  the  welcoming  committee  had  next  morning,  and  it  was  obvious 

been  noisy— the  entire  family:  sev-  she  was  fighting  for  courage,  but, 

en-year-old  Dickie  and  the  fourteen-  after  a  month,  the  fear  still  seemed 

year-old  twins,  plus  Grandma  Dunn  to  be  there, 

and,  of  course,  Harvey  and  herself.  ***** 

It  was  difficult  to  restrain  the  chil-  lyrAUREEN  scrubbed  her  teeth 

dren,  and  even  Grandma  Dunn  had  and  washed.    Then  she  went 

been    curious    and    excited    about  back  to   the  bedroom   and   shook 

John's  wife.  Harvey  again.  "Come  on,  dear,  it's 

When  Maureen  had  finally  taken  after  six-thirty." 

Beverly  up  to  John's  room,  she  had  This  time  he  grunted  and  sat  up 

Page  223 



on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  looking  big 
and  tousled  and  not  at  all  like  a 
successful  grain  buyer  in  his  polka- 
dot  pajamas.  ''Dickie  coughed,"  he 

"Yes,"  she  answered  his  state- 
ment. ''But  he's  sleeping  now.  Fm 
going  to  let  him  sleep.  He  can't  go 
to  school  with  that  cough." 

Harvey  lumbered  sleepily  into  the 
bathroom,  and  Maureen  began  to 
dress.  Dickie's  cough  was  a  worry. 
He'd  had  far  too  many  colds  this 
winter.  Her  mind  drifted  back  to 
the  more  urgent  worry.  She  must 
forget  her  own  heavy  fear  concern- 
ing her  older  son  and  find  some  way 
to  comfort  his  wife.  Terror  could 
be  destructive,  and  Beverly  and  the 
new  life  within  her  must  be  kept 
secure  and  safe  for  John  when  he 
came  home. 

After  dressing,  Maureen  looked 
in  on  Dickie,  whose  seven-year 
length  was  curled  into  a  relaxed 
mound  under  the  jumbled  covers. 
His  breathing  was  easy,  and  he 
didn't  look  feverish. 

Then  she  quietly  crossed  the  hall 
and  opened  the  door  to  the  room 
her  fourteen-year-old  twins  shared. 
They  were  already  awake,  and  she 
had  apparently  interrupted  a  low  ex- 
change of  words,  for  Jean  was  wip- 
ing angrily  at  reddened  eyes,  and 
Jill's  whole  attitude,  as  she  jerked 
bobby  pins  out  of  her  hair,  was  one 
of  impatient  defensiveness. 

To  Maureen,  it  was  a  constant 
source  of  surprise  that  her  twins 
were  alike  in  time  element  only. 
They  did  not  share  a  single  twin 
characteristic.  Where  Jill  was  gre- 
garious and  aggressive,  Jean  was 
quiet  and  shy.  The  identical  shape 
and  shade  of  their  brown  eyes  were 

denied  in  the  fiery  sparkle  of  Jill's 
flashing  looks,  the  soft  warmth  of 
Jean's  calm  observance. 

Now  Jill  turned  quickly  to  her 
mother.  "Mother,  I  think  Jean  is 
just  plain  selfish  about  her  purple 
shoes.  They  just  match  my  dress, 
and  she  isn't  even  going  to  the 
dance  .  .  .  ." 

Jean  didn't  speak,  and  Maureen 
could  sense  her  waiting  for  her  re- 
sponse—her mother's  judgment  in 
the  case  of  the  purple  shoes.  "The 
wisdom  of  Solomon,  the  patience  of 
Job  .  .  .  ."  Those  had  been  her 
own  mother's  words  and  that  was 
exactly  what  it  took  to  rear  chil- 

The  argument  of  the  purple  shoes 
had  been  going  on  for  several  days, 
and  Maureen  felt  sure  the  onlv 
reason  the  usually  generous  Jean  re- 
fused the  shoes  was  because  she 
wanted  so  much  to  go  to  this  par- 
ticular dance  herself  and  didn't 
have  a  date. 

"Jill,  those  shoes  belong  to  Jean. 
She  saved  the  money  for  them  by 
making  her  school  skirts  instead  of 
buying  them  ready-made  as  you  did. 
If  she  doesn't  want  you  to  wear  the 
shoes  I  suggest  you  stop  asking." 
Maureen  didn't  like  the  smug  look 
on  Jean's  face.  "You  better  get  up 
Jean,  it's  nearly  seven." 

lyrAUREEN  closed  the  door  to 
the  twins'  room  and  won- 
dered if  she  had  done  and  said  the 
right  thing.  Jill,  who  was  slightly 
lazy,  had  no  right  to  expect  to  reap 
the  rewards  earned  by  industrious 
Jean,  and  yet  smugness  concerning 
possessions  was  not  good,  either. 
Where  was  the  right  place  to  draw 
the  line? 
On  her  way  downstairs,  Maureen 



passed  Beverly's  door  and  wondered 
if  the  argument  had  awakened  her. 
In  the  last  month  she  had  won- 
dered what  Beverly  must  think  of 
their  noisy,  energetic  household. 
She  had  felt  distressed  that  Beverly 
should  become  aware  of  the  myriad 
daily  problems  to  be  met  and 
solved  with  the  children,  and  yet 
while  she  was  living  here,  it  was  im- 
possible to  insulate  her  against 
their  everyday  life. 

In  the  kitchen  Maureen  moved 
quickly  and  efficiently  to  pre- 
pare breakfast,  her  hands  doing 
tasks  so  familiar  that  she  scarcely 
had  to  think  as  she  worked.  She 
remembered  when  John  had  first 
written  about  Beverly.  He  had 
met  her  at  a  M.I.A.  dance.  Maureen 
knew  at  once  that  this  girl  was  spec- 
ial as  far  as  John  was  concerned, 
but  she  had  been  taken  completely 
by  surprise  when,  after  knowing 
Beverly  but  one  month,  John  had 
written  and  asked  his  mother  to  get 
his  recommend  from  the  bishop,  as 
he  and  Beverly  planned  to  get  mar- 
ried right  away. 

Less  than  three  months  after  the 
temple  ceremony,  John  had  been 
sent  overseas.  There  had  not  been 
time  for  a  trip  home,  but  he  had 
called  on  the  phone,  and  it  was 
then  he  had  told  them  that  they 
were  expecting  a  child  and  asked  if 
Beverly  might  come  and  stay  with 

"She  has  no  family,  Mom,  and 
she's  scared,"  he  had  said. 

''Of  course,  John,  she  must  come 
here  with  us.  There's  your  room. 
We  could  fix  it  up  for  her.  Why, 
she  must  come  here!"  Her  voice  had 
risen  with  urgency.  So  it  was  settled 
and  Beverly  had  come. 

As  if  it  were  yesterday  Maureen 
remembered  her  own  fear  when  she 
knew  she  was  going  to  have  John. 
And  her  own  mother's  words, 
"Maureen,  women  have  been  hav- 
ing babies  since  time  began,  and 
most  of  'em  seem  to  live  through 
it.  The  really  hard  part  about  hav- 
ing a  baby  is  rearing  it  to  be  a  use- 
ful person.  Most  women  can,  and 
do,  have  babies,  but  it  takes  real 
courage  and  love,  plus  the  wisdom 
of  Solomon  and  the  patience  of 
Job,  to  rear  'em  to  be  fine  men  and 

These  words  had  been  a  comfort 
to  her.  They  had  made  her  feel  a 
kinship  with  all  other  women  down 
through  the  ages,  and  she  had  de- 
cided to  concentrate  on  being  a 
good  mother  when  her  baby  ar- 


ARVEY'S  kiss  on  the  back  of 
her  neck  brought  Maureen  back 
to  the  present.  She  turned  and 
moved  into  the  circle  of  his  arms, 
and  they  stood  in  a  warm  embrace 
without  speaking.  Each  morning 
before  the  children  came  downstairs 
they  stood  so  and  seemed  to  draw 
strength  from  each  other  for  the 
day  ahead.  Neither  of  them  spoke, 
for  words  were  unnecessary. 

Maureen  sighed  and  drew  away 
from  the  comfort  of  the  embrace 
to  turn  the  pancakes  that  were 
cooking  on  the  stove.  "Drink  your 
orange  juice,  dear." 

"Yes,  ma'm,"  he  imitated  Dickie. 
But  he  picked  up  his  glass  of  juice. 
"What's  the  trouble?  You  seem  to 
be  in  the  glumps  this  morning." 

"Harvey,  I'm  worried  about  Bev- 
erly. She  seems  to  be  so  nervous, 
so  ...  so  frightened."  It  was  hard 
to  put  her  feeling  into  words. 



"She  does  appear  to  be  a  little 
apprehensive.  But  who  wouldn't 
be,  living  with  such  a  batch  of  in- 
laws?" He  chuckled  and  began  to 
butter  his  pancakes.  Before  Mau- 
reen could  voice  any  further  doubts, 
Beverly  came  into  the  kitchen. 

''Goodness,  guess  I've  overslept 
again."  She  smiled  shyly.  'Tou 
could  probably  call  it  a  habit,  Fve 
done  it  nearly  every  morning  since 
I've  been  here." 

''Good  morning,  Beverly."  Har- 
vey beamed  at  the  pretty,  dark- 
haired  girl,  and  Maureen  was  thank- 
ful for  his  gracious  way  with  her. 

"There's  no  need  for  you  to  get 
up.  You  should  sleep  as  long  as 
you  want  to."  Maureen  smiled  af- 
fectionately as  she  handed  her  a 
glass  of  fruit  juice. 

"Oh,  I  don't  feel  like  I  have  to 
get  up,  it's  just  that  I  enjoy  ...  I 
mean  it's  so  nice  the  way  you  all 
have  breakfast  together."  Her  lovely 
eyes  grew  concerned.  "How  is  Dick- 
ie? I  heard  him  coughing." 

"Well,  he's  sleeping  and  I  think 
his  temperature  is  gone.  It's  hard 
to  say  .  .  ."  Maureen  began  as  Jill 
flounced  into  the  room. 

"Hi,  everybody!"  She  seated  her- 
self with  an  air  of  tragic  melan- 

"Morning,  darling.  Who  ruffled 
your  feathers  so  early  in  the  morn- 
ing?" Harvey  grinned  at  her. 

She  didn't  return  his  smile,  but 
let  the  corners  of  her  mouth  droop 
further.  "I  don't  see  how  anyone 
can  be  as  selfish  as  Jean  is.  She's 
nothing  but  a  dog-in-the-manger. 
She  isn't  even  going  to  the  dance. 
She  doesn't  have  a  date." 

"I  don't  want  any  old  date!  I 
don't  even  want  to  go  to  the  silly 

dance."  Jean's  bravado,  as  she 
walked  into  the  kitchen,  was  be- 
trayed by  the  slight  quaver  in  her 

Maureen  felt  it  was  time  she 
stepped  into  the  argument.  She  car- 
ried a  plate  of  pancakes  to  the  table. 
"I  think  you  are  both  behaving 
more  like  four  than  fourteen." 

She  went  on  conversationally, 
"Isn't  Todd's  cousin  here  from  Salt 
Lake?  He  seemed  like  an  awfully 
nice  boy,  and  no  one  here  would 
know  he  was  a  year  younger  than 
Todd.  In  fact,  I  thought  he  was 
the  same  age  when  I  met  him." 
Maureen  watched  the  light  dawn 
on  Jill. 

"Mother,  that's  a  wonderful  idea. 
Why  didn't  I  think  of  it?"  Jill 
turned  to  her  sister.  "Would  you 
go,  Jean?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  don't 
think  .  .  .  ."  Jean's  pessimistic  words 
were  denied  by  the  hope  that  was 
suddenly  shining  in  her  eyes. 

Jill  leaped  up  from  the  table. 
"I'll  call  Todd  right  now." 

T  ATER,  after  Maureen  had  kissed 
her  husband  goodbye,  she 
watched  the  twins  start  out  for 
school  arm-in-arm.  It  seemed  that 
Todd's  cousin  wanted  very  much  to 
take  Jean  to  the  dance,  but  because 
of  that  temporarily  important  one 
year's  difference  in  age,  he  had  been 
too  shy  to  ask.  Jill  would  wear 
Jean's  purple  shoes,  and,  in  fair  ex- 
change, Jean  would  have  the  loan 
of  Jill's  crystal  necklace.  With  a  lit- 
tle luck,  Maureen  thought,  that 
might  be  the  last  major  crisis  today, 
but  there  would  be  something  else 

The     comfortable     old     house 



seemed  quiet  and  peaceful  as  she 
walked  back  to  the  kitchen.  ''Why 
don't  you  put  on  some  more  pan- 
cakes while  I  go  check  Dickie?"  she 
asked  Beverly,  who  still  sat  at  the 
table,  staring  intently  out  the  win- 

The  girl  smiled  and  moved  to- 
ward the  stove,  and,  when  Maureen 
came  downstairs  after  looking  in  on 
the  still  sleeping  boy,  the  pancakes 
were  steaming  on  the  table. 

They  often  sat  over  breakfast 
this  way  in  the  morning,  and  it  had 
given  Maureen  her  best  opportunity 
to  get  to  know  Beverly.  She  had 
found  the  girl  sincere  and  sweet. 
Not  once  since  the  night  she  came 
to  live  with  them  had  she  men- 
tioned her  fear  of  having  the  baby. 
At  times  she  seemed  relaxed  and 
normal,  and  then  again  Maureen 
saw  a  look  of  apprehension. 

Now  Beverly  spoke  almost  before 
Maureen  was  seated  at  the  table,  as 
though  she  had  been  planning  the 
words  while  she  waited,  ''I  want  to 
talk  to  you  about  something,  it's  .  .  . 
well,  I  .  .  .  Fm  so  frightened  .  .  .  ." 
She  seemed  unable  to  go  on. 

Maureen  put  down  her  fork 
slowly.  Here  it  was.  Now  the  fear 
would  be  out  in  the  open.  And 
that  would  be  best.  But  did  she 
have  the  answer?  Could  she  find 
the  words  that  would  comfort 
Beverly?  The  answer  that  would 
quiet  the  destroying  fear? 

''Beverly,  women  have  been  hav- 
ing babies  since  time  began.  With 
the  care  you  get  today  .  .  .  ." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  worried  about  the 
baby  being  born.  It's  .  .  .  ."  Bev- 
erly began. 

"But  I  thought  you  .  .  .  the  night 
you  came  .  .  .  ."  Maureen  interrupt- 

ed  her,    and    then    could   find   no 
words  to  voice  her  astonishment. 

OEVERLY  laughed  self-conscious- 
ly.   "I  guess  I  acted  like  that  at 
first.    But,  anyway,  I'm  not  fright- 
ened about  that  anymore." 

"Then  what  .  .  .?"  Maureen  was 
at  a  loss  for  words  again. 

"Well,  it's  partly  Dickie.  I  mean 
he's  been  so  sick.  His  cough  must 
be  a  worry."    Beverly  spoke  slowly. 

"Dickie  will  be  all  right,  Beverly. 
Nearly  all  children  have  a  bad  win- 
ter now  and  then.  Colds  or  coughs 
or  both.  Dr.  Morse  gave  me  a  good 
tonic  for  him  yesterday."  She  smiled 
reassuringly.  "Why  Dickie  will  be 
back  to  school  in  a  week." 

"Yes,  I  know.  But  you've  been 
up  so  many  nights,  and  you're  so 
patient,"  Beverly  went  on.  "And 
then  the  twins.  They're  adorable 
but  .  .  .  well,  life  is  so  complicated 
for  them.  Everything  is  so  vital. 
And  you  always  seem  to  know  what 
to  say  and  do.  Like  this  morning  at 

"The  twins  are  in  one  of  the 
stages  that  all  children  go  through. 
They're  almost  impossible  to  live 
with  now,  but  in  a  year  or  two 
they'll  suddenly  be  young  women." 
Maureen  laughed  ruefully.  "And 
difficult  as  they  are,  I  hate  to  see 
them  grow  up." 

"I  know.  And  then  there's  John." 
Beverly's  eyes  clouded  with  misery. 
"At  first  all  I  could  think  of  was 
what  it  meant  to  me  to  have  him 
go  away.  But  now  I  see  all  the 
years,  all  the  love  and  patience  that 
made  him  what  he  is.  Now  I  have 
an  idea  of  how  hard  it  must  be  for 
you  .... 

"Yes,   it's  hard."     Maureen   felt 



heavy  with  sadness.  "But  every 
mother  knows  that  someday  her 
children  will  leave  the  home,  and 
even  while  her  heart  cries  out 
against  their  leaving,  she  knows 
that  it  is  the  way  of  life.  A  thing 
she  must  face,  only  war  makes  it 
much  worse."  Her  eyes  met  Bev- 
erly's. '*I  hope  you  never  have  to 
send  a  son  to  war." 

"That's  what  I  mean."  Beverly's 
voice  was  almost  a  whisper.  "Giving 
birth  to  my  baby  doesn't  seem  such 
a  problem  anymore.  It's  after  they 
get  here.  I  don't  know  if  ...  I 
don't  know  if  I  have  what  it  takes 
to  be  a  mother." 

Maureen  let  her  body  relax  into 

the  kitchen  chair  and  felt  part  of 
a  heavy  burden  slip  from  her 
shoulders.  Beverly  would  be  all 
right.  She  had  stopped  thinking  of 
herself  and  was  becoming  con- 
cerned with  the  real  job  ahead  of 
her.  She  had  stopped  worrying 
about  the  birth  and  was  feeling  her 
first  responsibility  toward  the  new 
life  that  would  be  put  in  her  hands 
soon,  slowly  understanding  that 
this  new  life  would  take  all  the  skill 
and  love  and  courage  she  could 

The  older  woman  smiled  into  the 
young  girl's  eyes.  "When  the  time 
comes  .  .  .  you'll  find  you  have 
what  it  takes,"  she  said. 

^oin  the  L^rusade  K/Lgainst   L^ancer 

Sandra  Munsell 

Supervisor,  Magazine  Advertising  Services 

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through  many  springtimes  yet  to  come— because  they  were  saved  last  year 
from  cancer.  Other  tens  of  thousands  could  have  been  saved  by  today's 
knowledge,  if  only  they  had  been  treated  in  time.  Why  weren't  they  treat- 
ed in  time? 

Because  of  all  of  us.  We  haven't  worked  hard  enough  at  cancer  edu- 
cation and  service  to  others.  And  we  still  haven't  given  enough  money 
for  training  physicians,  for  clinics,  and  for  research.  More  help  is  needed, 
much  more!  Let  us  assure  continued  progress  by  joining  the  Cancer 

Second  Best 

Blanche  Sutherland 

KAY  Webster  turned  the  chops 
and  lowered  the  fire  under 
the  skillet  before  lifting  a 
flushed  cheek  for  Don's  homecom- 
ing kiss.  There  were  tired  lines 
around  her  mouth,  and  a  strand  of 
fair  hair  had  escaped  its  pin. 

"Dinner's  late,"  she  said,  hurried- 
ly putting  plates  and  silver  on  the 
table  in  the  breakfast  nook.  "Mr. 
Martin  brought  in  some  extra  con- 
tracts to  be  typed— in  triplicate,  too, 
mind  you,  and  at  five-thirty." 

"Well,  I'm  late,  too,"  Don  con- 
soled. "That's  what  comes  of  hav- 
ing to  ride  with  Carson.  He's 
alwavs  behind  time." 

*'l  wish  we  had  two  cars,"  Kay 
interjected  impatiently,  "or  you 
would  pick  up  the  baby,  and  I'd 
come  home  by  bus.  No— that 
wouldn't  do.  I'd  be  later  than  ever. 
Oh,  well,  wash  Bobby's  hands  and 
put  him  in  his  chair,  will  you,  Don? 
And  start  him  on  his  dinner.  He's 
so  hungry  and  tired.  Mrs.  Meredith 
was  just  about  to  feed  him  when 
I  finally  got  there." 

Don  laid  an  envelope  beside  his 
own  plate  silently  and  picked  up 
Bobby  from  the  floor,  swinging 
him  to  his  broad  shoulder. 

"Hi,  old  man,"  he  said,  his  broad 
face  tender,  "how  about  a  wash- 
up  and  then  that  egg,  I  see  there?" 

Bobby  rubbed  his  eyes  with  a 
small,  grubby  hand.  ''Egg,"  he  de- 
manded, "egg." 

Kay  fluffed  the  potatoes,  stined 
gravy,  and  was  sliding  a  pan  of  rolls 
from  the  oven  when  Don  and  Bob- 
by returned,  sleek  and  smiling. 

"That  oven!"  she  ejaculated. 
"These  rolls  are  too  brown." 

Don  sniffed  appreciatively  at  the 
warm  odors  emanating  from  the 
steaming  utensils.  "I  like  'em  brown. 
And  chops!  Who  wants  steak 
when  chops  are  half  the  price?" 

He  levelled  Bobby  into  his  chair 
and  gave  him  his  spoon.  "Did  you 
see  what  I  brought  home,  honey?" 
he  asked  eagerly. 

Kay  shook  her  head.  "Dinner's 
ready,"  she  said. 

Don  sat  down,  opened  the  en- 
velope, and  passed  the  contents 
over,  then  straightened  back,  a  smile 
lighting  the  broad  planes  of  his 
face.    "How's  that?"  he  inquired. 

Kay  dropped  her  eyes  to  the 
paper,  then,  ''Tho  car,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "In  full,  Dan,  in  full? 
Well,  that's  off  our  shoulders." 

"Yep.  Our  car  at  last,  and  still 
in  good  shape,  and  now  .  .  .  ."  He 
grinned  at  her. 

Kay  poured  milk  into  Bobby's 
cup.  "And  now.  What  do  you 
mean— and  now?" 

Don  took  an  appreciative  bite  of 
his  chop.  "And  now,  you  can  quit 
working,  honey.    See?" 

"Quit!"  Kay  remonstrated.  "The 
car's  paid  for,  yes,  but  there's  still 
the  house." 

"I  can  take  care  of  that.  The  fifty 
dollar  raise  I  got,  you  know." 

"But  that's  not  all,  Don,"  Kay 
broke  in,  her  blue  eyes  impatient. 
"The  furniture  is  all  secondhand 
stuff,  as  you  know.  The  stove  and 
refrigerator  are  both  on  the  ragged 
edge.  And  then,  I  want  one  of 
these  automatic  washers— instead  of 
spending  half  my  evenings  wash- 
ing and  drying  clothes."  Kay  stopped 
for  breath. 

Page  229 



*'But  if  you  weren't  working, 
you  wouldn't  need  to  wash  even- 
ings, honey/'  he  objected.  ''We'll 
get  all  those  things  in  time.  Be 
reasonable,  won't  you?" 

IZAY  laid  down  her  fork  patiently. 
'^  "But  Don,  Bobby's  all  right. 
Mrs.  Meredith  is  wonderful  with 
children,  better  than  I  would  be. 
Bobby  has  playmates  there,  all 
about  his  own  age.  He'd  be  lone- 
some here  all  alone." 

''He'd  get  acquainted  with  his  fa- 
ther and  mother,"  Don  argued 
shortly.  "The  way  it  is  now,  we 
rush  him  to  Mrs.  Meredith's  so 
early  he  can't  even  have  breakfast 
here.  Then,  at  night,  after  he's  had 
his  dinner,  he's  tired  and  goes  to 
bed.  That's  no  way  for  a  family 
to  live." 

Kay's  lips  trembled.  She  spooned 
baby  food  onto  Bobby's  plate,  wiped 
egg  smears  from  his  mouth.  "Well, 
Fm  too  tired  to  argue,"  she  said. 
"I  just  told  Mr.  Martin  this  morn- 
ing that  I'd  stay  on,  so  I  guess  I'll 
have  to." 

Don  shrugged  and  finished  his 
meal  in  silence,  his  mouth  set  grim- 
ly. But  as  they  were  preparing  for 
bed,  he  renewed  his  plea. 

"Kay,  think  it  over,  won't  you? 
I  want  a  real  home  and  a  wife  who 
isn't  all  tired  out  when  I  get  here, 
where  dinner's  ready,  and  the  kid's 
not  too  tired  to  play  a  little  while. 
Can't  you  understand?" 

Kay,  seated  at  the  dressing  table, 
took  the  bright  stones  from  her  ears 
and  started  brushing  her  short, 
blond  hair. 

"I'll  think  about  it,"  she  said 
shortly.     "Anyway,  there's  no  hur- 

But  she  was  too  tired  to  think, 

this  night  as  always,  and  in  the 
morning  there  was  no  time.  Don 
doesn't  know  what  he's  asking,  she 
reasoned  with  herself.  Besides,  I 
like  working,  and  Mrs.  Meredith  is 
so  lovely  with  Bobby.  Breakfast, 
lunch,  and  naps  right  on  time.  And 
she's  teaching  all  the  children  good 
manners  and  how  to  get  along  to- 
gether. I  couldn't  do  it. 

T/"AY  met  Margery  Holt  in  the 
drugstore  downtown  that  noon 
when  she  went  in  after  lunch  to 
get  some  toilet  articles.  Marge  had 
her  baby  with  her,  almost  the  same 
age  as  Bobby. 

"Still  working,  Kay?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  but  Don's  beginning  to  fuss 
about  it,"  Kay  answered.  Then,  "Do 
you  think  I'm  unreasonable.  Marge? 
You  stay  at  home,  you  know  how 
it  is.  I  want  to  keep  on  working 
until  we  have  some  of  the  nice 

"Well,  of  course,  Don  makes 
more  than  Ed.  But  staying  at 
home's  no  cinch.  I'm  real  tired  at 
night,  and  we  don't  go  out  much  as 
we  can't  afford  a  baby-sitter  very 
often.    Bobby's  all  right,  isn't  he?" 

"Oh,  yes,  fine.  Mrs.  Meredith  is 
wonderful.  She  takes  care  of  four 
children,  all  under  two.  Some  are 
creeping,  some  just  staggering 
around.  And  the  jargon!"  Kay 
laughed.  "She  told  me  this  morn- 
ing that  Bobby  said  'Mawy'  the 
other  day.  She  thought  he  was  try- 
ing to  say  Meredith." 

Margery  laughed.  "Of  course, 
that's  natural.  He  sees  far  more  of 
her  than  of  you." 

Kay  winced,  but  did  not  reply, 
while  Margery  continued,  "And 
once  they  get  started  talking  .... 
My  Danny  was  slow,  too,  but  he's 



been  saying  Da  da  and  Mum  for 
two  or  three  weeks.  Ed  was  so 
proud,  you'd  think  no  child  ever 
talked  before." 

''Mum,  mum/'  Danny  interrupt- 
ed. ''Da  da!"  his  tiny  hands  wav- 
ing in  an  ecstasy  of  accomplish- 

Kay  smiled  down  at  him,  a  small 
stirring  of  jealousy  in  her  heart.  It 
wasn't  any  lack  in  Bobby,  of  course. 
She'd  start  tonight  saying  Da  da 
and  Mummy  over  and  over.  It 
wouldn't  be  long. 

"And  his  first  step,"  Margery  was 
bubbling  on.  "Oh,  that  was  a  day. 
Maybe,  it's  because  Danny's  our 
first,  but  Ed  would  hardly  let  the 
child  rest  a  minute.  'Stand  up  now,' 
he'd  say,  'like  a  little  man.  That's 
it.  Now,  come  to  Daddy.'  Over 
and  over,  he'd  urge  him  until  I  had 
to  step  in  and  put  him  to  bed." 
She  laughed.  "I  suppose  it's  the 
same  with  you." 

Kay  nodded.  She  wasn't  going 
to  tell  Marge  that  they  hadn't 
known  about  Bobby's  first  step 
alone  until  he  was  really  walking. 
Mrs.  Meredith  had  too  many  first 
steps  to  report,  maybe. 

"Well,  I've  a  tub  of  laundry  wait- 
ing," Marge  exclaimed.  "Come  up 
some  Saturday  and  we'll  compare 
children.     So  long." 

^^'CAY  Mummy,  Daddy,"  Kay 
^  coaxed  Bobby  that  night  as 
she  was  preparing  him  for  bed.  She 
pulled  a  tiny  shirt  from  over  his 
small  blond  head.  "Mummy,  Dad- 

"Mawy,"  Bobby  replied  stolidly. 


"What's  that  he's  trying  to  say?" 
Don  asked  from  his  seat  on  the 

"Meredith,  I  guess.  At  least, 
Mrs.  Meredith  thinks  so,"  Kay  re- 
plied shortly,  "or  imagines,"  she 
added.  "Though  with  all  those 
babies  gabbing  away,  I  don't  know 
how  she'd  know  who  really  did  say 

Don's  face  was  inscrutable.  He 
started  to  speak,  thought  better  of 
it,  and  lapsed  into  silence. 

"Did  you  think  any  more  about 
giving  up  your  job,  Kay?"  He  asked 
later  as  she  washed  and  he  wiped 
the  dishes. 

"No,"  she  answered  crisply. 

"Well,  do,"  he  urged.  "You're 
looking  tired,  honey.  I'd  think 
you'd  rather  stay  home." 

"Marg  Holt  stays  home  and  she 
gets  tired,  too,"  Kay  interjected, 
"real  tired,  she  expressed  it  today. 
They're  having  a  hard  time  finan- 
cially, too.  I  believe  she  envies 

Don  shrugged  and  carried  a  load 
of  dishes  to  the  cupboard.  "I  wish 
I'd  never  let  you  go  back  to  work," 
he  said  grimly. 

"Then  the  car  wouldn't  be  paid 
for,  maybe  not  even  the  doctor  bill 
for  Bobby,  and  a  lot  of  other 
things,"  she  flashed.  "Don't  for- 
get that." 

She  wiped  off  the  table,  hung  up 
the  towels,  "I've  some  things  to 
wash  out,"  she  said  shortly. 

"Okay,"  Don  said,  his  mouth  a 
grim  line.    "Anything  I  can  do?" 

"No,"  Kay  answered  and  watched 
him  out  of  the  kitchen.  Perhaps 
Don  had  forgotten  how  things  had 
been,  she  thought,  her  hands  deep 
in  soapsuds.  They  had  married  on 
faith  and  a  shoestrong.  She  had 
her  job,  he  had  his  and,  of  course, 
with   one   rent   to  pay  instead   of 



two  and  home-cooked  meals  so 
much  cheaper  than  restaurant  ones 
they  had  decided  they  could  get 
along.  They  had  for  a  time.  The 
furnished  apartment  did  very  well 
until  they  found  an  unbelievable 
bargain  in  a  house.  They  had  furn- 
ished it  with  unclaimed  furniture 
from  a  storage  place,  all  on  time,  of 

Then,  their  luck  had  faded.  Don's 
car  gave  out,  and  they  had  to  buy 
another,  and  Dr.  Wellman  in- 
formed them  that  Bobby  was  on 
the  way.  Soon,  there  was  only 
Don's  salary.  Doctor  bills  mount- 
ed, crib,  carriage,  layette  had  to  be 
bought,  later,  hospital  bills,  nurses 
and  pediatricians  to  be  paid.  The 
first  of  the  month  became  a  night- 
mare of  juggling  salary  against  gro- 
ceries, bills,  and  house  and  car  pay- 
ments. There  never  was  enough 
to  go  around.  Kay  watched  Bobby 
through  many  a  minor  upset  to 
save  another  doctor  bill. 

'pHEN,  she  had  found  Mrs.  Mere- 
dith. Kay  reached  for  the  soap 
box,  recalling  her  first  encounter 
with  her.  She  had  gone  for  a  walk 
in  the  park  with  four-month-old 
Bobby  and  a  sudden  rainstorm  had 
sent  her  up  on  the  porch  of  a  near- 
by house  for  shelter.  Suddenly,  the 
door  opened  and  a  pleasant  woman 
had  appeared. 

"Come  in,  my  dear,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "You're  getting  wet.  I'm 
Mrs.  Meredith." 

Thankfully,  Kay  accepted  and 
found  inside  what  seemed  to  be  a 
room  full  of  bassinets,  cribs,  play- 
pens, all  with  children  in  them,  all 
nearly  the  same  size. 

"Are  they  all  yours?"  she  asked 
in  bewilderment.     'Twins  or  trip- 

lets, or  .  .  ."  she  stammered,  look- 
ing from  one  to  the  other. 

"Oh,  no,"  Mrs.  Meredith  laughed. 
"I  only  take  care  of  them.  It's  just 
another  way  of  earning  a  living." 
She  picked  a  string  of  plastic  balls 
up  and  handed  it  to  the  occupant 
of  a  bassinet.  "I  love  children,  and 
it's  much  easier  if  they're  all  about 
the  same  age." 

"But— but  where  are  their  moth- 
ers?" Kay  gasped. 

"Oh,  working.  Diane,  here  has 
a  father  in  Korea,  Jerry  over  there 
in  the  play-pen,  his  father  is  dead. 
Mary's  mother  works  to  make  ends 
meet.  Different  reasons,  you 
know,"  she  explained.  "But  sit 
down  and  let  me  see  your  baby. 
Boy,  isn't  it?" 

Kay  complied,  and  by  the  time 
the  rain  had  ended  and  Mrs.  Mere- 
dith had  disclosed  her  terms,  she 
was  thoroughly  imbued  with  her 
new  idea.  Everything,  the  room, 
the  babies  were  shining  clean,  the 
children  seemed  happy  and  well 
cared  for.  This  would  be  the  an- 
swer, and  Mr.  Martin,  her  employer, 
had  told  her  any  time  she  wanted 
to  come  back,  he'd  find  a  place  for 

"Would  you  take  Bobby?"  she 
had  asked.  "I  really  need  to  work, 
we're  so  in  debt.  And  I'd  feel  per- 
fectly safe  if  he  were  here." 

Mrs.  Meredith  hesitated  and 
looked  about.  "I've  never  taken 
more  than  four  at  a  time,"  she  ob- 
jected. "I'm  afraid  not."  She 
brightened.  "Judy's  mother  is  get- 
ting better.  Perhaps  it  won't  be 
too  long  before  she  can  care  for  her 
herself.  Give  me  your  name  and 
telephone.  I'll  call  when  I  can  take 

Bobby  had  gone  to  Mrs.  Mere- 



dith  at  six  months  of  age,  ten 
months  ago.  They'd  paid  their 
debts,  one  by  one,  bought  a  few 
pieces  of  furniture,  finished  the  pay- 
ments on  the  car— and  now  .... 

Kay  poured  the  pan  of  suds  into 
the  sink,  filled  it  with  fresh  water, 
and  started  rinsing  small  shirts  and 
stockings,  overalls,  and  sweaters. 
Now,  with  an  automatic  washer, 
Bobby's  clothes  would  all  be  clean 
and  dried  by  the  time  he  was  in 
bed  and  she'd  be  through  for  the 
night.  She  crisscrossed  a  cord  in 
the  kitchen  and  hung  up  the  small 
garments  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  May- 
be this  was  the  last  time.  There 
wasn't  a  single  reason  why  the 
washer  might  not  be  decided  upon 
tomorrow,  or  the  next  day  at  the 

rjON  made  only  a  small  objection, 
going  with  her  to  decide  on  the 
make  and  size  most  suitable.  After 
that,  life  went  along  as  usual,  ex- 
cept that  Kay  wasn't  so  tired  at 
night,  and  they  had  their  evenings 

'T  guess  you  were  right,  Kay," 
Don  owned  grudgingly  one  even- 
ing. The  weary  lines  had  disap- 
peared from  the  face  she  bent  over 
her  mending.  "At  least,  about  the 
washer,"  he  amended.  ''What's  that 
you  are  sewing  on?" 

"Bobby's  overalls.  I've  mended 
and  mended  them  but  hand-sewing 
doesn't  hold.  I  believe  I'll  get  a 
sewing  machine.  It  would  really 
be  a  saving.  I  could  make  the 
drapes  for  this  room  for  a  third  of 
the  price  they  charge." 

Don  shook  his  head  wearily. 
"Here  we  go  again,"  was  all  he  said. 

Kay  went  on,  "And  I  saw  a  sofa  in 
Hanagan's  window,  just  the  color 

I  want."  Kay  turned  and  looked 
about  the  room.  "Everything's  so 
shabby.  Now,  with  new  drapes," 
she  went  on  brightly,  "and  another 
chair,  you  wouldn't  know  the  place." 

"Honey,  honey,"  Don  begged, 
reaching  forward  for  her  hand. 
"Let's  be  satisfied  with  what  we 
have  until  I  can  manage.  I'll  get 
the  sofa  and  the  drapes,  and  after 
a  while  the  sewing  machine.  Just 
be  patient,  won't  you?"  He  patted 
her  hand.  "Those  are  just  things, 
and  meanwhile  we're  losing  a  real 
home.  Bobby  is,  too,  if  you'd  only 
see  it." 

Kay  turned  her  head  away.  Was 
she  unreasonable?  Don  looked  so 
eager,  it  seemed  to  mean  so  much 
to  him.  Then,  suddenly,  something 
of  the  old  panic  she  had  felt  before 
and  just  after  Bobby's  birth  re- 
turned. Who  knew  when  bad  luck 
might  strike,  and  they'd  be  faced 
with  bills  again— every  month  turn- 
ing this  way  and  that,  balancing  this 
against  that.  She  was  doing  this  as 
much  for  Bobby's  sake  as  for 
theirs,  she  thought  irritably. 

She  pulled  her  hand  away  from 
Don's.  "Another  year  maybe,"  she 
promised,  "just  to  be  safe." 

■pvON  pushed  back  his  chair  and 
got  up  abruptly,  his  dark  eyes 
hard  as  a  stranger's  beneath  the 
thick,  dark  brows.  "And  you  have 
no  faith  in  me  and  my  ability  to 
take  care  of  you  and  Bobby." 

"It  isn't  that,"  Kay  objected,  but 
she  knew  it  was. 

"Or  are  you  a  coward?"  Don 
asked  bitingly.  He  picked  his  hat 
from  the  closet  shelf  and  walked 

Kay  gathered  up  her  mending 
with  unsteady  hands.    She  wasn't  a 



coward,  she  wasn't,  and  she  didn't 
doubt  Don.  She  only  wanted  to  do 
the  best  for  all  their  sakes. 

Later,  in  bed,  she  turned  and 
tossed  until  Don  returned,  finally 
dropping  off  to  sleep,  promising  her- 
self that  when  the  sewing  machine 
was  paid  for,  she  would  stop  work. 
But  not  now,  she  told  herself  fever- 
ishly, Don  would  just  have  to  un- 

One  afternoon,  several  weeks  lat- 
er, Mrs.  Meredith  called.  Bobby 
seemed  to  have  a  cold,  she  said,  his 
temperature  was  up  a  little.  Prob- 
ably, nothing  to  worry  about,  but 
Kay  should  come  and  get  him.  The 
other  children  must  be  protected. 

He  did  seem  quite  feverish,  Kay 
found.  She  bundled  him  up  and 
carried  him  to  the  car,  trying  to 
hush  his  crying.  It  couldn't  be  seri- 
ous, Bobby  was  always  so  well.  But 
she'd  call  Dr.  Wellman.  Then  she'd 
call  the  office,  and  say  she  wouldn't 
be  back  that  day,  and  after  that, 

"It's  too  early  for  a  diagnosis," 
the  doctor  reported.  'There  are  a 
number  of  things  it  might  prove  to 
be.  I'll  leave  something  for  his 
fever  and  the  cough.  Keep  him  in 
bed  and  no  visitors.  It  might  be 
contagious.    I'll  see  you  tomorrow." 

Contagious?  Oh  no,  Kay  thought, 
dismayed.    I'll  call  Don. 

Don  arrived  home  early,  his  dark 
face  anxious.  '1  got  hold  of  John- 
son and  he  brought  me,"  he  ex- 
plained. "How's  Bobby?"  He  stood 
over  Bobby's  bed.  "Probably  just 
a  cold,"  he  said  without  conviction. 
"Do  you  suppose  it's  something  he 
caught  over  at  that  Meredith  wom- 

"No,"  Kay  replied.  "I  called  'that 
Meredith  woman'  as  you  term  her. 

She  said  the  other  children  were 
all  well.  It's  probably  something  he 
picked  up  at  the  zoo  where  you  in- 
sisted on  taking  him  Saturday." 

Don  shrugged  and  looked  at  her 
in  silence.  Then,  "I  wanted  you 
to  go,  too,  remember?  We  have 
so  few  pleasures  together  with  Bob- 
by, honey.  Saturday  afternoon  is 
our  only  day." 

"And  my  only  day  for  finishing 
those  drapes,"  she  replied  in  a  tense 

jyY  the  fourth  day,  telltale  spots 
appeared  on  Bobby's  face,  and 
the  doctor's  verdict  was  measles. 

"Measles,"  Kay  exclaimed.  "Oh, 
all  children  have  measles.  How  long 
will  it  take  to  clear  up?  My  job, 
you  know." 

"Two  weeks,  probably,"  the  doc- 
tor said.  "That  is,  if  everything 
goes  well,  and  there  are  no  compli- 

Kay  sobered  instantly.  "Compli- 

"Bronchitis,  ear  trouble,  even 
pneumonia  is  possible.  But  keep 
him  comfortable,  no  chilfing,  no 
drafts.  Care  is  the  necessary 

After  the  doctor's  departure,  Kay 
stood  watching  Bobby,  his  small 
flushed  face  against  the  pillow.  He 
coughed  hoarsely  and  opened  his 
eyes.  "Mawy,"  he  called,  "Mawy!" 

Kay  bent  and  touched  his  hot 
little  forehead.  "Mommy's  here, 
Bobby.  This  is  Mommy.  Do  you 
want  a  drink  of  water?" 

Bobby  turned  his  face  away. 
"Mawy,"  he  sobbed,  "wan  Mawy." 

He  means  Mrs.  Meredith,  Kay 
thought  numbly.  "Mawy  can't 
come,  Bobby.  Daddy  will  be  here 
soon,  though." 



''No.  Mawy/'  Bobby  sobbed  over 
and  over,  ''wan  Mawy/' 

That  night  Bobby  woke  scream- 
ing with  an  earache.  He  cried 
constantly  for  "Mawy,"  until  the 
doctor  arrived  with  a  sedative. 

"Who  is  it  he's  calhng  for?"  he 
asked,  "a  playmate?" 

"No,  a  Mrs.  Meredith  who  has 
been  caring  for  him,"  Kay  replied 

"I  see.  Too  bad.  Of  course,  she 
couldn't  come."  He  turned  in  an 
attempt  at  jocularity.  "Bobby'll 
have  to  get  along  with  just  his 
Mom  and  Dad.  Usually,  a  good 
combination,  though,"  he  smiled. 
"If  the  baby's  not  better  by  morn- 
ing, call  me." 

Kay  studiously  avoided  Don's 
eyes.  She  knew  what  he  was  think- 
ing. He  and  she  were  second  best 
in  the  eyes  and  heart  of  their  own 
baby.  And  it  was  her  own  fault. 
She  had  sold  their  birthright  for  a 
mess  of  pottage.  His  first  step 
alone  had  been  for  Mrs.  Meredith, 
his  first  word  had  been  her  name. 
The  mess  of  pottage  was  a  box  of 
receipted  bills,  a  washer,  living- 
room  drapes,  and  a  sewing  machine. 
Don  was  able  and  more  than  will- 
ing to  care  for  his  family's  real 

She  threw  herself  down  beside 
the  bed  where  Bobby  was  lying  in 
a  drugged  sleep  and  wept.  "You 
must  hate  me,  Don,"  she  sobbed 
hopelessly.  "I  hate  myself.  It's 
not  only  me  but  I've  robbed  you, 
too.  I've  given  away  Bobby's  baby- 
hood, as  if  it  were  nothing.  And 
nothing  can  bring  it  back,  ever/" 

She  felt  Don's  hands  lifting  her. 
"I  don't  hate  you,"  he  said,  his  face 
against  her  hair.  "I  love  you.  I  know 
you  thought  you  were  doing  right, 
I've  known  that  all  along.  You 
just  were  scared  of  unpaid  bills, 
which  we  could  pay  in  awhile  with 
careful  budgeting  and  not  buying 
unnecessary  things." 

He  raised  her  chin  and  kissed  her 
trembling  lips.  "Besides,  by  another 
month  Bobby  will  have  forgotten 
all  about  Mrs.  Meredith.  You'll 

"Do  you  think  so,  really?  It  seems 
mean,  she's  such  a  nice  person," 
Kay  sympathized,  then  brightened 
at  a  new  determination. 

"I'll  call  her  in  the  morning  and 
the  Martin  Company,  too.  They  can 
both  start  advertising  in  the  Want- 
ed columns.  Bobby  and  I  are  go- 
ing to  be  occupied  otherwise  from 
now  on,"  she  concluded,  with  a 
glow  of  gratitude  in  her  heart  for 
her  decision. 

c/he  ofirst  Spring  (^rocus 

Thelma  W.  Groneman 

Come  with  me  and  I  will  show  you 
Where  the  first  spring  crocus  grows 
Beneath  a  hedge  in  wild  abandon, 
Spills  its  gold  on  melting  snows; 
Catching  the  robin's  liquid  notes, 
Coaxing  the  spring  along  to  share 
The  joy  of  newborn  life  and  love. 
Come,  and  I  will  take  you  there. 

Nevada's  Valley  of  Fire 

Wilhid  Luce 

Willard  Luce 


POLITICALLY,  Nevada's  Valley 
of  Fire  has  a  checkered  history. 
At  one  time  it  was  up  for  consider- 
ation as  a  national  monument. 
When  this  was  dropped,  Nevada 
itself  took  it  over  as  a  State  Park. 
Finally,  the  State  withdrew  its  sup- 
port, and  the  Valley  is  now  under 
the  Department  of  the  Interior, 
Bureau  of  Land  Management.  It  is 
being  considered  as  an  addition  to 

Page  236 

the  Lake  Mead  Recreation  Area, 
and  as  such  would  be  placed  under 
the  supervision  of  the  National 
Parks  Service. 

But,  regardless  of  the  Valley  of 
Fire's  political  affiliations,  it  is  still 
a  mighty  interesting  place  to  visit. 
Nevada  Highway  40  is  only  twenty- 
three  miles  long,  running  from  the 
Lake  Mead  Recreation  Area  to 
Crystal,  on  U.  S.  Highway  91  and 



93.  Much  of  this  twenty-three 
miles  is  through  the  jumbled  red 
ledges  of  the  Valley  of  Fire. 

Extending  the  borders  of  the 
Recreation  Area  would  place  the 
Valley  of  Fire  under  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  park  rangers  who  could 
help  protect  it  from  vandals  who 
are  now  robbing  it  of  its  petrified 
trees,  smashing  and  shooting  its 
signs,  and  generally  marring  its 
natural  beauty. 

The  Valley  receives  its  name  from 
the  jumbled  strips  of  red  sandstone 
ledges  which  lie  like  long,  red  welts 
across  the  drab  Nevada  landscape. 
Brilliant  at  any  time,  these  ledges, 
two  hundred  to  eight  hundred  feet 
high,  become  flaming  red  at  sunset. 
The  tops  of  the  ledges  are  jagged 
and  broken,  making  the  ledges  ap- 
pear even  more  like  falls  of  flame. 

Within  the  Valley  are  numerous 

stone  formations,  including  two 
elephant  rocks.  Fossils  of  marine 
reptiles  and  partial  skeletons  of 
camels  have  been  found.  Side  roads 
lead  to  petrified  trees  and  petro- 

Picnicking  areas,  constructed  by 
the  State  of  Nevada,  are  still  fairly 
intact;  but  be  sure  to  bring  your 
own  water.  Near  the  eastern 
boundary  of  the  Valley  is  the  grave, 
marked  by  a  large  headstone,  of  a 
soldier  who  didn't.  His  death  hap- 
pened a  long  time  back,  when  the 
road  was  part  of  the  old  Mormon 
Trail  to  Las  Vegas  and  Southern 
California.  He  died  there  in  the 
shadow  of  his  wagon,  only  a  few 
miles  from  the  Muddy  River  and 
less  than  half  a  mile  from  a  spring 
up  in  the  rugged  sandstone  ledges. 
Water,  like  gold,  is  where  you  find 
it  there  in  the  desert. 

[JUoubie   {Beauty 

Lena  Woodbury 

IN  April^  Los  Robles  is  the  most  beautiful  street  in  Pasadena.  It  is  lined  on  either 
side  with  the  camphor  tree,  a  well-branched  evergreen  with  shining  leaves.  The 
trunk  and  branches  are  dark  brown,  almost  black,  a  striking  background  for  the  glisten- 
ing foliage.  In  April  the  old  leaves  turn  red  and  yellow  and  drop  in  great  profusion 
as  the  new  growth  appears.  The  sidewalks  are  covered,  the  street  is  covered,  the  gut- 
ters are  piled  high. 

Is  it  Los  Robles  I  love  or  is  it  memories  of  such  scenes  of  my  childhood?  I  am 
kicking  through  the  leaves  on  my  way  to  school,  those  great  piles  of  red  and  gold  and 
brown  the  rich  treasures  that  the  trees  almost  overnight  have  cast  at  my  feet.  I  hear 
the  crackle  of  them  as  I  scuffle  along.  I  see  them  flying  before  me  m  the  wmd.  All 
this  flash  of  color  and  movement  is  mine  to  catch  and  to  remember. 

I  see  my  dearest  older  sister,  even  then  a  mother  with  several  children,  coming  to 
visit  mv  mother.     Seeing  the  lawn  so  covered  with  leaves,  she  kicks  her  feet  joyously, 
flings  herself  down  into  the  leaves,  rolls  delightedly  down  the  slope.    What  freedom 
what  joy'    At  the  bottom  of  the  lawn  she  rolls^  right  into  the  small  irrigation  ditch  full 
of  water  which  had  been  hidden  by  the  carpet  of  leaf  color. 

As  T  drive  up  Los  Robles  in  April  I  laugh.  The  laugh  is  for  an  autumn  of  long 
aeo  A  Utah  autumn.  For  those  who  are  no  longer  children,  beauty  is  always  double. 
The  beauty  of  today,  and  just  as  immediate,  the  beauty  of  yesterday,  are  tied  inseparably 
together  by  the  ribbon  of  memory. 

(bixti[    ijears  KyLgo 

Excerpts  From  the  Woman's  Exponent,  April  i,  and  April  15,  1894 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 

Women  of  All  Nations" 

AN  ETCHING:  It  was  a  bright,  clear  morning  in  the  Wasatch  Range.  The 
lofty,  alpine  valley  near  the  head  of  the  canyon,  high  up  among  the  peaks,  lay  gleaming 
in  the  morning  sun.  White  stemmed  quaking  aspens  stood  out  in  sharp  relief  against 
a  background  of  dark  pines.  Their  pale  green  leaves,  shot  through  with  golden  sun- 
beams, trembled  lightly  in  the  gentle  breeze  ....  Above  and  beyond  the  fringe  of 
trees  stretched  an  unbroken  forest,  and  still  beyond,  yet  in  the  near  distance,  rose  rocky 
cliffs  and  snowy  summits,  outlined  in  grey  and  white  against  the  deep  blue  sky  .... 

—Anna  D.  Thrall 

SCHOOL  OF  OBSTETRICS  AND  NURSING:  Mrs.  Lizzie  H.  Shipp,  professor 
and  practical  teacher  of  obstetrics,  will  open  a  school  of  obstetrics  in  Salt  Lake  City 
the  first  Monday  in  May.  A  half  yearly  course  will  be  taught  for  the  unprecedented 
low  terms  of  ten  dollars. 

• — Selected 


There  will  be  glad  rejoicing 

When  the  summer  comes  again. 
When  the  rivers  break  their  fetters 

And  the  rills  throw  off  their  chains  .... 
All  living  things  as  in  one  voice, 

Will  unite  in  glad  acclaim  .... 
The  vestments  of  glad  adorning, 

Will  be  worn  through  earth's  domain  .... 
All  its  forces  northward  streaming 

When  the  summer  comes  again. 
— L.  M.  Hewlings 

WOMAN  FARMER:  Mrs.  Virginia  C.  Meredith  of  Cambridge  City,  Indiana, 
proprietor  of  one  of  the  finest  Shorthorn  herds  in  the  country  ....  believes  there  is 
no  spot  equal  to  a  farm  for  at  once  furnishing  a  competence  and  enabling  a  woman  to 
establish  a  beautiful  home  and  bring  up  her  children  nobly. 

— Selected. 

ference of  the  Sanpete  Stake  of  Zion  convened  in  the  Spring  City  Meeting  House, 
December  16th.  President  M.  A.  P.  Hyde  presiding.  The  branches  of  the  Relief  So- 
ciety of  Fayette,  Gunnison,  Sterling,  Moroni,  Chester,  Mt.  Pleasant,  Wales,  Spring  City 
and  Ephraim  represented.  Counselor  Sarah  Peterson  was  pleased  with  the  humble 
spirit  manifested.  Spoke  at  some  length  on  the  storing  of  grain  and  culture  of  silk. 
President  Canute  Peterson  advised  the  sisters  to  gather  wheat  for  it  will  be  needed  .... 

— Mary  A.  F.  Hansen,  Sec. 

Page  238 

Woman's  Sphere 

Ramona  W.  Cannon 


FORD,  of  the  general  Rehef 
Society  board,  acted  as  the  Utah 
vice-chairman  of  the  1954  cam- 
paign of  the  Crusade  for  Freedom. 
Last  year,  while  serving  in  the  same 
office,  she  received  a  personal  ci- 
tation from  the  national  committee 
for  her  outstanding  service.  This 
was  signed  by  Admiral  C.  E.  Wil- 
son, Henry  Ford,  and  H.  S.  Miller. 
On  a  percentage  basis,  Utah  was 
the  highest  1953  contributor  to  the 
fund,  of  any  state  in  the  Union.  The 
effect  of  messages  distributed  by 
broadcast,  balloon,  or  otherwise,  to 
the  people  behind  the  Iron  Curtain 
from  the  people  of  America  them- 
selves (not  the  Government)  is 
astonishingly  inspiring  to  the  re- 

nPENLEY  ALBRIGHT,  after  a 
courageous  come-back  from  po- 
lio, became,  in  1953,  the  first  United 
States  girl  ever  to  win  the  world 
figure-skating  championship.  One 
critic  comments,  ''She  did  to  figure 
skating  what  Pavlova  did  to  the 
ballet."  A  pre-medical  student  at 
Radcliffe,  she  has  no  ambitions  to 
become  a  professional  skater. 

TN  January,  Mrs.  Hattie  Whitney 
^  (Sidney  G.)  Saville  died.  She 
was  a  granddaughter  of  Newell  K. 
Whitney,  first  presiding  bishop  of 
the  Church  in  Utah,  and  the  last 
member  of  the  family  of  Horace  K. 

and  Mary  Cravath  Whitney,  pio- 
neers of  1847.  ^^^  ^^'^s  ^  former 
president  of  Ensign  Stake  Young 
Women's  Mutual  Improvement  As- 

TLONA  KARMEL  was  a  young 
high  school  girl  in  Poland  when 
the  Nazis  invaded.  She  spent  two 
years  in  concentration  camps,  where 
she  wrote  poetry  on  the  backs  of 
work  sheets.  She  was  later  gradu- 
ated from  Harvard  University,  where 
she  is  now  a  teaching-fellow.  Her 
first  novel,  Stephaniaj  was  a  Literary 
Guild  selection  last  spring. 

Lake  City  musician  and  teach- 
er, was  recently  paid  a  high  tribute 
by  internationally  famous  Utah 
pianist  Grant  Johannesen,  who 
spoke  of  his  former  teacher  as  being 
the  ''most  important"  in  his  long 
career  of  piano  study. 

OIRTHDAY  congratulations  are 
extended  to  Mrs.  Augusta  Sten- 
quist,  Tremonton,  Utah,  for  her 
ninety-ninth  birthday;  Mrs.  Julia 
Caroline  Beal  Burr,  Provo,  Utah, 
ninety-six;  Mrs.  Amanda  L.  Pope, 
Garden  City,  Utah,  ninety-five; 
Mrs.  Anna  Rogers  Moyes,  Salt  Lake 
City,  Utah,  ninety-four;  Mrs.  Sarah 
Ann  Smith  Boren,  Salt  Lake  City, 
ninety-two;  Mrs.  Amy  Keister, 
Grand  Island,  Nebraska,  ninety- 

Page  239 


VOL.  41 

APRIL  1954 

NO.  4 

Jtrbor   CO 


Plant  thou  a  tree  whose  grief  less  leaves  shall  sing 
Thy  deed  and  thee,  each  fresh  unfolding  spring. 

— E.  M.  Thomas. 

■pVERY  nation  has  in  the  pages 
of  its  history  some  heroes,  some 
great  deeds,  or  some  incident  in  the 
national  life  which  it  desires  to  hold 
in  remembrance,  or  some  object  to 
which  it  attaches  some  special 
significance.  There  are  a  number 
of  the  days  on  the  calendar  which 
are  specially  set  apart  as  holidays 
in  the  United  States.  Most  of  these 
days  are  kept  in  remembrance  of 
the  past,  but  one  of  our  American 
holidays  turns  its  face  toward  the 
future,  rather  than  toward  the  past. 
It  is  Arbor  Day,  which  is  kept  as 
a  symbol  of  progress,  so  that  the 
children  of  the  present  may  be  able 
to  prepare  a  blessing  for  the  chil- 
dren of  the  future. 

Arbor  day  owes  its  origin  to  }. 
Sterling  Morton,  a  former  secretary 
of  Agriculture,  when  he  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Nebraska  State  Board  of 
Agriculture  in  1872.  Before  the  in- 
auguration of  this  day,  Nebraska 
was  called  the  treeless  state.  On 
the  first  Arbor  Day,  more  than  a 
million  trees  were  planted.  During 
the  next  twelve  years  over 
350,000,000  trees,  vines,  and  shrubs 
were  planted. 

In  the  West  there  were  many 
treeless  plains,  and  this  beautiful 
and  useful  custom  of  planting  trees 
at  once  aroused  the  interest  of  other 
states,  and  the  plan  was  generally 

Page  240 

taken  up  throughout  the  country. 
Arbor  Day  is  set  aside  for  the  plant- 
ing of  trees  and  shrubs  around  the 
homes,  along  the  highways,  and  in 
other  places,  where  they  are  need- 
ed, for  future  blessings  and  enjoy- 
ment. The  purpose  of  this  celebra- 
tion is  to  impress  upon  our  boys  and 
girls,  our  future  American  citizens, 
the  necessity  of  planting  trees  for 
the  security  of  our  nation's  material 
welfare,  and  to  implant  in  their 
hearts  a  love  of  nature.  Teachers, 
concerned  over  the  rapid  destruc- 
tion of  the  forests,  have  used  the 
occasion  to  tell  children  of  the  im- 
portance of  trees  and  to  teach  them 
their  importance  to  the  well-being 
of  the  nation. 

Whatever  the  date  that  Arbor 
Day  is  observed  in  the  different 
states,  it  is  a  wonderful  time 
for  families  to  enjoy  happy  rec- 
reational hours  together.  Take  a 
drive  out  into  the  country,  note 
the  quickening  of  the  earth  as  a 
result  of  the  warm  sunshine  that  has 
penetrated  the  ground,  see  earth 
coming  to  life.  An  urge  will  fill 
your  beings  to  plant.  Why  not 
plan  a  day  of  activity  for  the  whole 
family?  If  there  is  a  new  tree  to 
be  planted  sometime  during  the 
spring,  why  not  allow  the  children 
to  enjoy  the  pleasure  and  make  a 
ceremony  of  it  rather  than  to  hire 


someone  to  come  from  the  nursery  driveway  look  at  your  house  and 

for  that  purpose.     Planting  is  the  lot  with  the  eye  of  a  keen,  observ- 

most  delightful  business  of  garden-  ant   stranger.     What  do  you   see? 

ing.    Trees  should  be  planted  with  Do  your  home  and  its  surroundings 

intelligent  thought.     They  should  live  up  to  their  full  potentialities 

be  carefully  selected  and  tenderly  as  beauty  spots?  We  may  not  be 

cared    for   after   they   are    planted,  able  to  have  costly  homes,  but  we 

Children  should  be  taught  in  the  all  can  have  clean,  attractive  yards 

home  and  in  the  schools  to  love  and  well-kept  houses.  Those  who 

trees,  the  kinds  to  select  for  plant-  hold    office,    whether    church    or 

ing  in  different  localities,  how  to  civic,  should  especially  see  to  it  that 

plant,  and  then  how  to  protect  and  they  set  a  worthy  example  in  this 

care  for  trees.    He  who  plants  a  tree  regard. 

plants  a  future  beauty  and  joy,  and  Get  the  spirit  of  Arbor  Day,  do 
not  only  for  his  own,  but  for  a  fu-  some  planting  that  will  beautify 
ture  generation.  your  property  and  your  surround- 
However,  we  must  remember  Ar-  ings.  Encourage  and  help  those  re- 
bor  Day  means  more  than  planting  sponsible  for  doing  so,  to  beautify 
trees.  Shrubbery,  plants,  and  seeds  the  grounds  around  the  public 
of  various  kinds  should  be  planted,  buildings  in  your  town.  Let  us  each 
yards  should  be  cleaned,  lots  and  make  this  world  a  more  beautiful 
the  property  around  our  homes  place  in  which  to  live  by  truly  ob- 
should  be  made  more  sightly.  The  serving  this  Arbor  Day. 
next  time  you  drive  into  your  home  —V.  N.  S. 

Tiellie   W.    Tieal  [Resigns  from  the   (general  [Board 

TT  is  with  regret  that  the  general  board  announces  the  resignation  of 
Nellie  W.  Neal  as  a  member  of  the  general  board.  Sister  Neal  came 
to  the  board  in  May  of  1949  with  experience  and  knowledge  of  Relief 
Society  work  from  her  position  as  a  stake  Relief  Society  president. 

Since  her  appointment  to  the  board.  Sister  Neal  has  conscientiously 
and  full  heartedly  carried  out  every  assignment  given  her.  She  has  given 
careful  attention  and  thought  to  the  work  of  education  committees  and 
special  committee  work.  Particularly  outstanding  was  her  preparation  of 
a  set  of  lessons  for  special  study.  Her  artistic  ability  was  recognized  and 
used  on  occasions. 

Sister  Neal  was  alwavs  ready  to  subordinate  her  personal  wishes  to 
the  furtherance  of  Relief  Society  procedures  and  willingly  carried  out  all 
instructions  and  recommendations.  Her  devotion  and  ability  will  be  great- 
ly missed  bv  her  associates  who  wish  her  success  in  her  future  endeavors. 



xyl   L^entenarii  of  uielief  Society     \:yut  of  Lrnnt 


Centenary  oi  Relief  Society  was  published  for  the  one  hundredth  an- 
niversary of  Rehef  Society  in  1942  and  contains  much  valuable  his- 
torical information  concerning  the  activities  of  the  society  during  its  first 
one  hundred  years.  It  is  now  out  of  print,  and  the  general  board  does  not 
contemplate  reprinting  it,  so  we  suggest  that  each  organization,  stake  and 
ward,  preserve  one  copy  for  reference.  Those  stakes  or  wards  which 
already  have  them  in  their  libraries  should  see  to  it  that  they  are  properly 
bound  to  preserve  them  and  that  the  name  of  the  organizaion  is  either 
printed  on  the  cover  or  written  on  the  flyleaf  on  the  inside,  so  as  to  indi- 
cate clearly  that  it  is  the  property  of  the  society.  Those  organizations 
which  do  not  already  have  a  copy  in  their  libraries  should  try  to  obtain 
one  from  someone  in  their  stake  or  ward  and  have  it  bound.  We  recom- 
mend this  same  plan  be  followed  in  the  missions.  We  suggest  that  these 
books  be  bound  in  one  of  the  new  synthetic  materials,  such  as  fabricoid, 
as  this  binding  is  considered  more  durable  than  leather. 

We  have  arranged  with  the  Desert  News  Press,  Salt  Lake  City,  to 
bind  the  Centenaries  in  blue  fabricoid  with  a  24-carat  gold  seal  and  letter- 
ing on  it,  according  to  our  specifications,  so  that  they  may  all  be  bound 
alike,  and  stamp  the  name  of  the  society  on  the  cover  in  gold  for  $2.25  per 
copy  postpaid.  A  month  to  six  weeks  should  be  allowed  for  binding  the 
books  which  should  be  sent  direct  to  the  Deseret  News  Press,  31  Richards 
Street,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah.  We  recommend  that  stakes  make  this  an 
early  project  so  that  every  organization  may  preserve  a  copy  of  the 

[Boon  of  niormon  uieaaing  [Project 

DEPORT  forms  on  The  Book  of  Mormon  reading  project  will  be  sent 
to  stake  Relief  Society  presidents  in  May  1954,  and  should  be  returned 
not  later  than  July  15,  1954.  The  general  board  wishes  to  encourage  all 
sisters  to  do  the  reading  of  The  Book  of  Mormon  for  this  year,  which  in- 
cludes from  the  Book  of  Jacob  through  the  8th  chapter  of  Alma.  In  order 
for  a  sister  to  receive  credit,  the  reading  must  have  been  done  during  the 
year  in  which  the  lessons  have  been  studied  in  Relief  Society. 

Page  242 

(Prelude    771 


Florence  Jepperson  Madsen 
Member,  General  Board  of  Relief  Society 

npHE  word  prelude  means:  preced- 
ing or  introductory.  Prelude 
music  has  reference  to  the  prelimi- 
nary music  played  just  before  the 
meeting  begins.  Its  purpose  is  to 
introduce  or  create  an  atmosphere 
appropriate  to  the  occasion.  It  sets 
a  background  for  what  is  to  follow. 

The  music  chosen  for  the  prelude 
may  be  sacred  or  secular,  depending 
on  the  nature  of  the  gathering  in 
which  it  is  to  be  used.  For  instance, 
if  it  is  to  be  played  before  a  patri- 
otic meeting,  a  type  of  music  is  re- 
quired that  will  stimulate  a  feeling 
of  dynamic  patriotism,  the  type  that 
makes  an  audience  want  to  sing 
along  with  the  music.  It  should, 
therefore,  be  vigorous  in  tempo  and 
have  pronounced  rhythmical  ac- 

On  the  other  hand,  a  religious 
service  requires  prelude  music  of  an 
entirely  different  nature,  music  that 
is  sustained  and  tranquil  and  which 
generates  a  feeling  of  deep  spiritual 
fervor  and  devotion.  Such  music 
stimulates  listeners  with  an  attitude 
of  silent,  worshipful  meditation  and 
prepares  them  for  devotional  serv- 

The  organist  and  the  pianist  who 
have  studied  considerably  have 
naturally  accumulated  a  great  num- 
ber of  musical  compositions  cover- 
ing a  wide  variety  of  styles  and 
types.  The  organist  will  have 
learned  many  numbers  that  can  be 
used  in  church.  The  pianist,  how- 
ever, will  have  studied  an  entirely 
different  kind  of  repertoire;  there- 
fore, will  have  fewer  of  the  slow, 
sustained  compositions  that  are  best 

suited  for  church  service.  Neverthe- 
less, there  are  many  numbers,  such 
as  Schumann's  'Traumerei"  and 
Handel's  'X'argo,"  that  can  be 
played  effectively  on  the  piano  as 
preludes  in  religious  service.  Other 
similar  numbers  may  be  found  by 
looking  through  piano  compositions 
in  music  stores. 

Through  this  procedure  one  may, 
at  the  same  time,  determine  wheth- 
er or  not  one  has  the  necessary 
technique  with  which  to  play  the 
selected  numbers.  This  is  also  an 
excellent  way  to  become  acquaint- 
ed with  new  music  materials. 

Another  important  factor  in  re- 
lation to  prelude  music  is  that  of 
the  timing  element.  The  music 
should  cease  at  the  moment  the 
meeting  is  to  begin.  This  means 
that  the  composition  has  been  cor- 
rectly timed  often  enough  to  as- 
sure its  rendition  in  the  allotted 
time.  On  occasion  it  may  some- 
times be  necessary  to  shorten  a 
number  in  order  to  use  it.  This 
involves  careful  judgment  as  to  what 
should  or  should  not  be  used.  How- 
ever, when  the  composition  is  played 
it  should  still  give  the  impression 
of  completeness.  There  may  also 
be  occasions  when  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  lengthen  a  number.  This 
can  be  done,  most  generally,  by  re- 
peating certain  strains  or  parts  of 
the  composition  or  by  playing  it 
through  again.  Here,  again,  timing 
is  a  vital  factor. 

Efforts  should  always  be  made  to 
use  appropriate  prelude  music  and 
to  correlate  it  with  the  spirit  and 
subject  of  the  day. 

Page  243 

[Books  for  (cyrgamsts  and  [Pianists 


Organ  Voluntaries,  volumes  I  and  II,  Schreiner  and  J.  Fischer  $2.50 

Thiity-Eight  Voluntaries  for  Reed  Organ,  Jackson  &  G.  Schirmer  1.00 

Thiity-Eight  Voluntaries  ioi  Reed  Organ,  J.  Fischer 

volume  I   1.00 

volume  II  1.50 

Keed  Organ  P/ayer,  Walter  Lewis  and  T.  Presser .90 

Foity-Thiee  Organ  Voluntaries,  Lorenz 85 

Gems  for  the  Organ,  Shelley  and  G.  Schirmer 1.75 

Harker's  HnTmonium  CoUection,  G.  Schirmer  1.00 

Ninety-Thiee  Short  Pieces  for  the  Hammond  Organ  or  Piano, 

Jackson  and  G.  Schirmer  (written  in  two  staves)  2.25 


Sabbath  Day  Music  for  the  Piano,  O.  Ditson 1.00 

Church  and  Chapel  Vohmtaries,  Dreisbach  and  G.  Schirmer  2.00 

Chapel  Musings,  Perry  and  Presser 75 


Devotional  Organ  Music,  Asper  and  Carl  Fischer  (also  for 

electronic  organ)  2.50 

Organ  Voluntaries,  volumes  I  and  II,  Schreiner  and  J.  Fischer 2.00 

Church  Music  for  the  Smallest  Organ,  Nevin  and  J.  Fischer 1.00 

Organ  Melodies,  Landon  and  Presser 1.50 

EccJesiae  Organum,  William  C.  Carl  and  John  Church  2.50 

Organ  Musings,  Presser 1.50 

Chancel  Echoes,  William  M.  Felton  and  Presser  1,00 

Organ  Vistas,  Presser  1.50 

Twenty-Five  Pieces  for  the  Small  Pipe  Organ,  Schreiner  and  J.  Fischer 2.50 

The  books  listed  are  recommended  by  the  Church  Music  Committee. 


Peery's  Piano  Voluntaries,  Lorenz 1.25 

Church  Service  Selections  for  Organ  or  Piano,  No.  2,  Rodeheaver  1.25 

Chapel  Voluntaries  for  Organ  or  Piano,  Edward  B.  Marks 75 

Chapel  Voluntaries  for  Organ,  Harmonium,  or  Piano,  Edward  B.  Marks 

(from  Books  I  to  X,  inclusive)   (2  staves)   75 

Thirty-Two  Short  Pieces  for  Hammond  or  Pipe  Organ,  G.  Schirmer 

(arranged  by  Charles  Boyd)  1.50 

The  Sacred  Hour  at  the  Organ,  Arno,  Carl  Fischer  2.00 

Sunday  Piano  Music  (For  Church  and  Home),  Presser  1.00 

Piano  Voluntaries,  Presser 1.00 

Sacred  Piano  Album  for  Home  and  Church,  Carl  Fischer  1.00 

Twenty  Preludes  and  Postludes  for  Pipe  Organ,  Truette,  Schmidt 1.00 

The  Liturgical  Organist  for  Pipe  or  Reed  Organ  or  Piano, 

J.  Fischer  and  Brothers  (two  staves)   (volumes  1-6) 3.50 

Belwin  Organ  Album,  Belwin  Music  Company  (volumes  I,  II,  and  III)  1.50 

Classic  and  Modern  Gems  for  Organ  or  Piano,  Presser  1.25 

Instrumental  Church  Service  Selections  (for  Organ  or  Piano)  Rodeheaver  Co.  1.25 

Church  and  Chapel  Voluntaries  ior  Piano,  G.  Schirmer  2.00 

School  of  Organ  Playing  (op.  31)  edited  by  Shippen  Barnes 2.50 

Page  244 



Because  of  the  fluctuations  in  the  prices  of  music,  the  above  hst  can  only  be 

The  Etude,  a  monthly  music  magazine,  has  in  it  an  organ  and  a  piano  department, 
with  a  question  and  answer  division.  The  cultivation  of  the  voice  and  choral  work 
are  also  stressed.  The  chorister,  as  well  as  the  organist,  will  find  valuable  information 
and  help  in  this  magazine.  It  can  be  found  in  most  libraries,  or  one  may  subscribe  for 
it.  It  is  published  by  Theodore  Presser  Company,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pennsylvania,  $3.50  per 

If  the  music  hsted  above  is  not  available'  at  your  local  music  store,  it  may  be  ob- 
tained from  the  following  dealers: 

Beesley  Music  Company,  70  South  Main  Street,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 
Daynes  Music  Company,  45-47  South  Main  Street,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 
Glen  Brothers  Music  Company,  74  South  Main,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

2546  Washington  St.,  Ogden,  Utah 
57  North  University  St.,  Provo,  Utah 

■  ♦ 



ummer  c/irepiace 

Elizabeth  Williamson 

Arrange  this  pleasing  composition  for  your  fireplace  for  the  summer  months.  Use 
a  large  piece  of  aged  wood,  or  driftwood,  which  you  may  have  had  to  clean  up  a  bit 
by  using  a  wire  brush  or  sandpaper.  Some  pieces  of  driftwood  have  worn  smooth 
as  satin  and  need  no  cleaning  whatsoever.  Behind  the  wood,  place  a  transparent  bow 
which  will  not  be  obvious,  and  use  Michaelmas  daisies  or  small  flowers  with  small 
foliase  Dried  field  grasses  are  attractive,  also.  These  almost  neutral  arrangements 
are  dehcate  and  will  not  clash  with  brighter  and  more  colorful  flower  arrangements  m 
other  parts  of  your  room. 

Hal  Rumel 


JLet    LJour  cJahle  oJell  a  Story 

Helen  S.  WiUiams 

LOVE  of  parties  is  instinctive,  virtually,  to  most  of  us.     Friends  just  naturally  seek 
friends  to  sew,  to  knit,  or  chat  with,  or  to  be  entertained  by  someone  who  is 
talented  in  music  or  storytelling. 

To  some  a  party  means  just  to  get  together — nothing  more — nothing  less.  To 
Florence  C.  Williams,  however,  a  party,  either  large  or  small,  is  an  occasion,  an  event. 
No  matter  who  the  guests  are,  whether  they  are  two  or  three  precious  old  friends  who 
come  for  a  bit  of  lunch,  or  twenty,  or  fifty  persons  of  distinction  invited  to  dine  formally, 
Florence  Williams  gets  an  idea  and  develops  it  into  an  ingenious  work  of  art,  interest, 
and  originality. 

What  are  the  guests  going  to  do?  Have  they  any  special  interest?  What  are  their 
hobbies?  What  season  is  it — and  what  is  at  hand  to  make  this  party  something  in 
particular?  These  are  the  questions  Mrs.  Williams  asks  herself  when  she  begins  to  plan 
for  a  party. 

On  her  table  and  at  her  parties  she  uses  the  essential  principles  which  make  for 
artistry:  first,  beautiful  color;  second,  a  focal  point  of  interest;  third,  a  flowing  rhythm; 
fourth,  original  and  unique  accents;  and  fifth  and  most  important,  harmony  and  beauty. 

Above  is  pictured  a  table  set  for  a  sewing-bee  luncheon.  It  is  exquisitely  planned 
in  every  detail.     Yet  everything  used  could  be  found  in  almost  any  home.     Three,  six. 

Page  246 


or  eight  could  sit  around  this  table  and  catch  the  spirit  for  a  dehghtful  afternoon  of 

A  lovely  bouquet  exquisitely  proportioned  rises  from  a  plain  wicker  sewing  basket. 
Because  the  basket  happened  to  be  lined  with  yellow  satin,  Mrs.  Williams  chose  pale 
yellow  as  her  color  scheme,  and  carried  out  all  the  details  in  harmony  with  the  color. 
Daisies  with  yellow  centers,  grouped  artistically,  give  the  arrangement  great  style.  They 
are  arranged  high  and  to  one  side.  Then  the  soft  ball  of  white  yarn  stuck  with  knit- 
ting needles,  and  the  skeins  of  yellow  wool  in  light  and  dark  shades,  balance  the  bouquet 
perfectly  and  create  her  focal  point  of  interest  on  the  table. 

Any  lovely  arrangement  must  have  a  feeling  of  motion,  and  the  rhythm  of  this 
table  is  achieved  by  the  pale  yellow  ribbons  running  artistically  out  from  one  side  of 
the  basket,  with  spools  of  yellow  and  white  thread  slipped  on  them  and  tied  in  casual 

The  clever  and  necessary  accents  are  the  buttons,  tape  measures,  and  tiny  emery 
bags  in  the  shape  of  strawberries.  These  follow  the  graceful  curving  lines  from  the 
centerpiece  to  the  corner  of  the  table,  creating  a  lovely  sense  of  rhythm.  They  add 
interest  and  carry  out  the  theme  for  the  afternoon  of  stitching  and  knitting. 

A  beautiful  table  always  gives  a  feeling  of  complete  harmony.  The  cloth,  place 
cards,  flowers,  and  gifts  must  blend  to  express  the  central  idea. 

Thus  the  cloth  used  is  pale  yellow  organdy,  around  the  edge  of  which  are  ap- 
pliqued  daisies,  duphcates  of  the  ones  growing  out  of  the  basket.  The  place  cards  are 
large  daisies  (they  may  be  artificial  or  natural).  Their  centers  httle  pincushions  with 
yellow  and  white  headed  pins  stuck  upright  in  them.  On  the  corner  of  the  table  rests 
the  guest  prize  which  carries  out  and  completes  the  unusualness  of  the  central  idea. 

The  box  was  originally  just  a  plain  plastic  spool  box  bought  at  a  notion  counter, 
but  it  has  been  glorified  for  this  lovely  spring  sewing  bee  with  various  shades  of  yellow 
thread.  Each  spool  has  a  tiny  ring  of  seed  pearls,  circling  its  top.  The  box  itself,  fit 
for  a  queen,  has  been  adorned  with  gold  braid  and  rows  and  rows  of  little  pearls.  The 
recipient  of  this  lovely  and  unusual  gift  will  have  it  to  adorn  her  sewing  table  for 
months  to  come  as  a  gentle  reminder  of  a  wonderful  afternoon  as  the  honored  guest  of 
a  friend  who  entertained  so  beautifully. 

Yes,  Florence  Williams  is  an  artist.  She  loves  people,  and  her  hobby  is  planning 
and  giving  ideas  for  parties,  ideas  that  make  her  parties  linger  on  and  on  in  the  mem- 
ories of  those  who  attend. 

Surely  after  an  afternoon  at  this  lovely  sewing  party,  the  guests  would  leave  hum- 
ming softly  to  themselves,  "We  are  sewing,  daily  sewing,"  and  thinking,  why  I  could 
do  a  table  on  that  order  myself,  and  have  my  friends  come  to  a  party  at  my  house! 

S/t  uiappens  ibvery  Spring 

Verda  Mackay 

Blossoms  burst  their  bonds 

Fragile  as  chantilly  lace 

Which  each  new  spring  is  changed; 

Thus  nature  weaves  a  different  pattern 

With  all  things  rearranged. 

The  Part-Time  Heart 

Hannah  Smith 

MAL  was  taking  her  out  to 
dinner  later,  so  Evelyn 
hadn't  eaten  with  the  family, 
but  she  had  sat  at  the  table  with 
them.  There  was  a  lot  of  talking 
to  catch  up  on,  with  her  grandfa- 
ther home  again  after  so  long  a 
time.  The  dining  room  on  a  chil- 
ly California  evening  was  a  pleas- 
ant place,  with  the  overhead  light 
drawing  the  seven  Adams  faces  into 
an  animated  circle  around  the  table. 

The  words  and  phrases  ran  to- 
gether: '']oe  says  he  hates  the 
Korea  weather  .  .  .  you  give  the 
flag  salute  tonight  .  .  .  four  years 
before  they  put  the  road  through 
.  .  .  pinch  of  rosemary  in  it  .  .  . 
you  can  always  borrow  a  bugle  .  . .  /' 

Rob,  her  twenty-year-old  broth- 
er, was  teasing  his  mother  with  a 
far-fetched  account  of  his  pre-medic- 
al  school  day;  nineteen-year-old  Kat 
had  a  letter  from  Joe  Hanson  in 
Korea  she  kept  trying  vainly  to  read 
aloud,  and  her  father  and  Philip 
were  arguing  in  a  serious,  impor- 
tant undertone  about  the  scout 
meeting  in  the  family  basement 
that  night.  Then  there  was 
Cramps;  there  were  so  many  things 
everyone  wanted  to  ask  him,  even 
though  they  had  been  plying  him 
with  continuous  questions  ever 
since  he  got  back  from  his  trip  to 

Evelyn  sat  with  her  chin  cupped 
in  her  hands,  her  blonde  hair  fall- 
ing forward  in  two  soft  fans  on 
either  side  of  her  intent,  pretty 
face,  looking  first  at  one  and  then 

Page  248 

another  of  them,  but  most  often 
at  her  grandfather,  so  worn  and 
sparse-looking,  his  eyesight  failing, 
but  still  seeming  so  young,  hope- 
ful, and  full  of  the  serene  happi- 
ness she  always  associated  with  him. 
She  felt  an  echo  of  the  same  happi- 
ness within  herself,  with  the  family 
all  together  again  at  last,  and  ahead 
of  her  a  long  evening  with  Mai. 

Mai!  She  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  clock  and  gasped  out  loud. 

''Oh,  no!"  She  jumped  up.  ''It 
just  can't  be  seven-thirty  already! 
MaFs  coming  at  eight!" 

"Hurry,  hurry!"  jeered  Kat.  "Old 
Sobersides  will  be  mad  if  you're 

"Won't  Deadpan  wait  for  you?" 
Rob  drawled,  sticking  out  a  long 
leg  as  if  to  trip  her,  as  she  started 
pell-mell  for  the  door. 

Evelyn  gave  them  an  absent- 
minded  grimace  and  dashed  for  the 
stairs.  Running  up  to  her  room, 
she  thought  wryly  of  their  nick- 
names for  Mai.  She  couldn't  won- 
der at  them,  really— there  were  two 
Mais,  the  reserved,  stiff-faced  one 
the  family  always  met  on  his  fleet- 
ing appearances  in  the  front  hall, 
and  the  Mai  she  knew  and  loved— 
the  endearing  and  affectionate  one 
who  made  her  feel  so  special  and 
priceless,  the  Mai  she  was  going  to 

She  knew,  though,  that  after  what 
had  happened  Saturday,  Mai  would 
be  even  more  stiff  and  uncom- 
municative tonight  than  usual.  It 
would  never  do  to  let  him  know 


she  had  been  dawdhng  at  the  table  evening— the   first  any   of   us   had 

instead  of  getting  ready;  it  would  seen  him  for  five  whole  years.     I 

only  add  another  point  in  the  score  couldn't  have  been  away  when  he 

he  was  totaling  against  her  family,  came,  now  could  I?" 

When     the     doorbell     rang,     she  "If  it  hadn't  been  that  it  would 

grabbed  up  her  coat  and  purse  and  have  been  some  other  vital  family 

ran,  but  when  she  got  to  the  land-  affair."     Mai  shook  off  her  hand 

ing  she  saw  that  Mai  was  already  and  strode  ahead  to  open  the  car 

inside,  talking  to  her  mother.  From  door.    ''Won't  you  be  seeing  your 

above    he    looked    polite    enough;  grandfather   every    day   from    now 

there  was  even  a  smile  on  his  dark,  on?" 

craggily  handsome  face,  but  Evelyn  Evelyn  sighed,  getting  into  the 

went  down  the  steps  so  fast  she  car.     She  turned  on  the  overhead 

was  breathless  when  she  reached  the  light  so  she  could  smile  into  Mai's 

downstairs  hall.  face  as  he  came  around  and  slid 

under  the  wheel. 

LJER    mother    turned    a    calmly  "I  love  you,  Mai,"  she  said,  plead- 

pleasant  face  and  Evelyn  drew  ingly.    "And  this  is  the  anniversary 

an  unconscious  sigh  of  relief.  of  the  night  we  met.     Let's  not 

"Evie  tells  me  this  is  a  big  even-  fight,  darling." 

ing,  Mai.    A  celebration."  Mrs.  Ad-  ''But   it   wasn't   a   year   ago   to- 

ams  smiled  up  at  him  as  she  put  night,"  Mai  said  stonily.^^  "It  was  a 

her  arm  around  Evelyn.     Usually  year  ago  Saturday  night." 

Evelyn   would   have   returned   the  ''I  wanted  you  to  come  over,  too 

hug,  but  now,  with  Mai's  eyes  on  —to  spend  the  evening  with  all  of 

her,  she  busied  herself  drawing  on  us.    We  had  such  a  nice  .  .  .  ." 

her  2loves.  *'I  know.     A  nice  family  even- 

"I've    been    counting   the    min-  '"&•                    .  ,.       .           , 

utes!"  she  said  gaily.  ^ .  Sl?e  ran  a  ca,ohng  finger  along 

..T^     n  .»»  1          J        J  i-T,  his  law,  and  he  smiled  reluctantly. 

"Really?    he  said   and  there  was  .^^^           ^^j  ^   ^^  „  ^^  ^^.^     .^^^ 

a  faint  edge  of  hostili  y  in  his  voice.  .^  ^^^^^  ^^  ^|  sometimes  that  I 

He  steered  her  out  the  door  with  ^^^^   ^^^^^   ^^^    ^^^   ^^^^^   ^^^^ 

the  briefest  of  goodmghts  to  her  ^ou  love  me  devotedly-part  time." 

mother  and-]ust  as  she  had  feared  ^^^  ^^.^  ^^^  g^         ^^^^^^^  ^-^ 

-flared  out  at  her  before  they  were  ^^^  ^^^  ^^^^^.^^  ^g^^j  .^^^^^  ^^^ 

off  the  front  steps.  ^^  ^^-^^-^    ^^^^  pj^^.^  special?  I'm 

"Counting  the  minutes?    Is  that  starved." 

why  you  broke  our  date  Saturday  p^g   started   the   car.     "Well,    I 

night?"  made  reservations  at  El  Polio  for 

"Oh,    honey!"    Evelyn    put    her  dinner,  and  I've  got  tickets  for  the 

hand  on  his  topcoat  sleeve,  looking  play  at  the  Biltmore." 

up  at  his  face.     Even  in  the  dark  Evelyn  put  her  cheek  against  his 

she  knew  his  expression— that  baf-  shoulder  for  a  brief  minute.    "Oh, 

fling  blend  of  reticence  and  hurt.  that's  lovely.     Just  like  last  year. 

"I  told  you  over  the  phone  how  You're  sentimental." 

it  was,  Mai!  Cramps  got  home  that  "Pretty  foolish,"  he  replied  gruff- 



ly,  "to  be  so  sentimental,  I  mean. 
A  man  lays  himself  wide  open  when 
he's  in  love  with  a  girl/' 

"Oh,"  Evelyn  laughed,  "you 
know  that's  what  I  like  about  you!" 

They  drove  into  the  parking  lot 
beside  the  Mexican  cafe  and  Mai 
helped  her  out.  "I  even  got  the 
same  table  we  had  last  year,"  he 

Evelyn  nodded  with  delighted 
recollection,  as  he  seated  her,  won- 
dering if  the  two  guitarists  in  the 
balcony  weren't  even  playing  the 
same  music  they'd  played  a  year 
ago.  "Everything's  exactly  the 
same.  Except  that  there  are  a  lot 
more  drippings  on  this  candle,  the 
proprietor  looks  a  good  bit  fatter, 
and  Kat  and  Joe  aren't  .  .  .  ." 

CHE  broke  off  quickly,  hoping 
Mai  hadn't  heard,  but  when  he 
sat  down  she  saw  that  his  eyes  were 
resentful  again. 

"You  wish  they  were,  I  suppose. 
Evelyn,  can't  you  spend  even  one 
evening  away  from  your  precious 

She  reached  out  to  touch  his 
hand,  to  make  him  look  at  her. 
"Mai,"  she  said,  holding  his  troub- 
led gaze,  "Mai,  I  promise  you,  you 
come  first  with  me.  If  you  really 
knew  my  family,  you'd  know  they 
wouldn't  .  .  .  ." 

"Well,  well!    Look  who's  here!" 

Neither  Evelyn  nor  Mai  had  seen 
the  tall,  bald  man  or  the  little, 
bustling  red-haired  woman  until  the 
pair  stopped  beside  their  table. 

"Been  wanting  to  meet  this 

Mai  gave  them  a  blank  stare, 
then  glanced  at  Evelyn.  She  was 
returning  their  smiles  with  what  ap- 
peared to  be  joyful  warmth. 

"Why,  hello.  Aunt  Laura!  Uncle 
Fred!  How  nice!" 

"We  won't  be  butting  in  if  we 
sit  with  you,  will  we?"  The  little 
woman  was  already  motioning  to  a 
waiter.  "Bring  a  couple  of  chairs, 
will  you?" 

Mai  had  struggled  to  his  feet;  he 
took  Aunt  Laura's  coat,  shook 
Uncle  Fred's  hand.  He  didn't  look 
at  Evelyn. 

"My  this  is  a  pleasant  surprise," 
Aunt  Laura  kept  saying.  "Been 
wondering  when  we'd  see  you, 
young  man!"  She  wagged  a  coy 
finger  at  Mai,  and  Evelyn  groaned 

"Marry  into  the  Adams  family, 
boy,  and  you'll  see  relatives  a-plen- 
ty!" Uncle  Fred  was  saying,  giving 
Mai  a  heavy  wink.  "Are  those  en- 
chiladas any  good?" 

Mai  nodded.  "Very,"  he  said. 
He  sounded  polite  enough,  but  the 
painful  color  in  Evelyn's  cheeks 

Aunt  Laura  kept  up  a  steady  flow 
of  high-pitched  inconsequential 
chatter,  punctuated  by  Uncle  Fred's 
heavy  rumble,  and  Evelyn  replied, 
smiled,  nodded,  as  her  misery  in- 
creased by  the  minute. 

When  the  waitress  came  for  their 
dessert  order,  Evelyn  shook  her 
head.  "We'll  have  ours  somewhere 
after  the  show,"  she  said  quickly. 
"We're  in  a  bit  of  a  hurry;  we're 
going  to  a  play." 

Out  in  the  car  she  turned  to  Mai 
with  a  rueful  smile.  "Mai,"  she 
pleaded.  "I'm  sorry.  Aunt  Laura 
is— well,  sort  of  silly,  I  know.  We 
don't  see  them  often,  but  they're 
very  good-hearted  .  .  .  ." 

Her  voice  trailed  off,  knowing 
her  words  sounded  weak,  defensive. 



"lyf  AL  laughed  shortly.  "Sure  you 
didn't  tell  them  we  were  com- 
ing? That  you'd  feel  lonesome 
without  some  of  the  Adams  clan 

She  sighed,  *'0h,  honey,  what 
can  I  do  to  prove  to  you  that  I'm 
not  tied  to  my  family?  That  this 
idea  is  .  .  .  ." 

"I'll  tell  you,"  Mai  said  suddenly, 
seizing  her  hands.  "Evelyn,  let's 
get  married  next  week.  No  wedding 
breakfast.    No  reception." 

Evelyn  stared  at  him,  wide-eyed. 
"Oh,  Mai!  There's  no  reason  for 
us  to  .  .  .  ." 

"Isn't  there?  You  said  once  you 
didn't  want  a  big  fuss.  Was  that 
just  talk?" 

"No!  No,  I  meant  that.  But  a 
wedding  breakfast  at  home  with 
just  the  .  .  .  ." 

The  motor  roared.  "Just  the 
family/"  Mai  said.  He  backed 
swiftly  out  of  the  parking  lot.  He 
gave  her  one  bitter  glance.  "Just 
the  family,"  he  repeated  scornfully. 
"Not  even  a  groom,  maybe.  That 
sums  it  up,  I  guess." 

Evelyn  saw  that  he  wasn't  driv- 
ing toward  the  theatre,  but  she 
didn't  care.  She  stared  straight 

"It— it  would  hurt  Mom's  feel- 
ings .  .  .  ." 

"Marriage  is  made  for  two.  And 
no  more,"  he  insisted. 

Of  course  Mai  was  right.  Per- 
haps she  was  too  dependent  on  her 
family,  but  how  could  she  hurt 
their  feelings? 

They  had  stopped  in  front  of  her 

"Well,"  Mai  said,  and  his  voice 
was  distant,  gentle.  ''I  guess  this 
is  goodbye,  isn't  it,  Evie?" 

All  at  once  she  was  in  his  arms, 
and  he  was  kissing  her. 

"No,  no,"  she  whispered,  but  that 
was  all  she  could  say. 

npHE  house  was  quiet  when  she 
opened  the  door,  although  it 
was  still  early.  When  she  tiptoed 
upstairs  she  saw  there  was  a  light 
under  her  grandfather's  door,  and 
she  went  by  as  quietly  as  she  could 
to  her  room.  As  she  sat  by  the 
front  window,  the  clock  downstairs 
struck  eleven- thirty,  then  twelve. 
Still  wide  awake,  she  opened  her 
door  and  saw  that  the  light  still 
shone  from  under  her  grandfather's 
door.  She  needed  to  talk  with 
someone  who  would  understand. 
Then  she  heard  a  slow  step  and  a 
hesitant  tap  on  her  door. 

She  opened  the  door  a  crack. 
"Yes?"  she  whispered. 

It  was  Gramps,  looking  very  small 
in  his  too-large,  shabby  bathrobe. 
"Thought  I  heard  you  moving 
around.  Thought  maybe  you'd  like 
to  come  over  and  talk  awhile  be- 
fore you  go  to  sleep." 

His  near-sighted  gaze  was  eager 
and  lonesome,  and  she  thought,  in- 
voluntarily, of  the  long  years  he  had 
been  gone— how  she  had  missed 
him.  She  followed  him  across  the 

"Why  don't  you  get  into  bed? 
I'll  read  to  you,"  she  said,  knowing 
that  his  eyesight  could  no  longer 
cope  even  with  a  newspaper  head- 

"Fine!"  he  said.  "That  would 
be  fine,  dear." 

"Anything  in  particular?" 

He  pointed  to  the  Bible  on  his 
bedside  table.  "Anything.  You 



She  opened  the  book  at  random 
and  began  to  read,  her  mind  on  Mai 
and  her  own  problem.  The  words 
hardly  made  sense  to  her,  but  she 
kept  her  voice  at  a  lulling,  steady 
monotone,  and  in  awhile  the  old 
man  fell  asleep.  She  put  the  book 
down  quickly  and  tiptoed  out,  con- 
scious that  some  fragment  of  what 
she  had  read  was  staying  in  her 
mind,  but  she  pushed  it  back  as 
she  had  the  rest  of  her  thoughts. 
She  stood  at  her  own  window  again 
and  saw  Mai  walking  up  the  front 
steps.  She  ran  quickly  down  the 
stairs  to  meet  him,  before  he  could 
ring  the  bell,  wondering  why  he 
had  returned. 

**0h,  honey,  honey,  I  couldn't 
wait  until  morning,"  he  said.  "I  was 
so  afraid  you  would  never  want  to 
see  me  again.'' 

It  was  then  that  the  words  she 
had  read  to  her  grandfather  came 
back  to  her,  as  sharply  clear  as  if 
Mai  himself  had  said  them  to  her 
aloud.    "Perfect    love    casteth    out 

"Mai,"  she  said,  "Fm  not  going 
to  have  a  hurry-up  wedding  with- 
out my  family  there.  Tonight 
when  we  were  talking,  I  thought 
you  were  right,  that  I  was  too 
entangled  in  my  family.  But  now 
I  know  what  is  wrong  between 
us.  Mai,  you're  the  one  with  the 
part-time  heart.  You  can't  trust  me 
when  I'm  away  from  you;  you  won't 
believe  in  my  love.  As  long  as  you 
feel  that  way,  our  marriage  would 
never  succeed.  We  have  to  have 
faith  in  each  other." 

He  clutched  her  arm.  "Evelyn, 
you  make  your  choice — it's  I  or  your 

She  shook  her  head.  "If  you  went 
to  the  other  side  of  the  world  to 

live,  I'd  go  with  you.  That's  not 
the  question;  I  know  that  now.  If 
you're  so  jealous  now  of  my  family, 
so  suspicious,  it  would  only  be 
someone,  something  else,  if  we  went 
to  the  end  of  the  world  together." 

He  let  go  of  her  arm  and  drove 
away,  while  she  stood  watching  him 
from  the  front  door. 

When  she  awakened,  sun  was 
streaming  in  the  windows.  She  sat 
up  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  pale 
face  in  the  mirror,  and  the  memory 
of  the  previous  night  clutched  at 

Was  I  wrong?  she  wondered. 
Just  as  she  was  starting  to  fasten 
the  belt  of  her  dress,  the  doorbell 
rang.  She  hardly  noticed  it,  but 
the  sound  of  the  voice  in  the  down- 
stairs hall  stopped  her,  her  eyes 
widening  with  incredulous  hope. 

She  ran  into  the  hall  and  looked 
over  the  banister.  Sure  enough, 
Mai  was  talking  to  her  mother.  He 
hadn't  seen  her.  She  cou'ldn't  read 
his  expression  or  tell  anything  from 
the  tone  of  his  voice. 

".  .  .  mind  calling  Evelyn?"  he 
was  asking. 

"Of  course.  She  isn't  up  yet, 
though.  Why  don't  you  come  in 
and  have  some  breakfast  with  us 
while  you're  waiting?" 

Evelyn  held  her  breath.  Mai  hesi- 
tated for  a  long  second.  Then: 
"Why,  yes,"  he  answered.  "Yes, 
I'd  like  to." 

Forgetting  how  she  looked,  aware 
of  nothing  but  the  golden  miracle 
of  the  morning,  Evelyn  ran  down 
the  stairs. 

"Mai!  Mai!"  she  called.  "Wait 
darling!    Wait  for  me!" 

She  caught  up  with  him  at  the 
door  and  they  went  in  to  join  the 
family  together. 

(gardening  for  the  aiome  freezer 

C.  W.  McCuIIough 

To  enjoy  a  garden,  put  on  a  wide  hat  and  gloves,  hold  a  little  trowel  in  one  hand, 
and  tell  the  man  where  to  dig. 

npHE  above  plan  has  a  legion  of  either  gardening  or  home  freezing, 
devotees,  but  this  article  is  not  These  are  widely  discussed  in  seed 
dedicated  to  those  who  practice  catalogues,  government  bulletins, 
their  backyard  agriculture  vicarious-  and  magazine  articles  that  you 
ly.  Rather  it  is  directed  to  those  probably  have  in  your  home.  Others 
who  prefer  the  fruits  of  their  own  are  available  at  your  library  or 
labors;  those  who  find  the  spring  through  contact  with  your  county 
catalogue  of  the  seedsmen  the  most  agent,  your  state  agricultural  col- 
fascinating  document  in  print;  those  lege,  or  state  department  of  agri- 
who  react  instinctively  to  the  chal-  culture  and  home  economics, 
lenge  of  a  freshly  plowed  or  spaded  A  garden  should  be  carefully 
plot  of  ground.  planned,    not   only   to    insure    the 

Home  gardening,  probably  almost  planting  of  varieties  that  do  well  in 
as  old  as  man,  has  experienced  the  your  particular  climate  and  altitude, 
greatest  uplift  in  its  history  during  but  of  equal  importance,  to  insure 
the  last  few  years  with  the  discovery  that  what  you  raise  will  find  a  ready 
of  the  means  of  preserving  food-  market  on  your  table.  A  great  mis- 
stuffs  by  quick  freezing.  When  man  take  of  tyro-gardeners  is  the  grow- 
perfected  this  new  means  of  put-  ing  of  vegetables  the  family  do  not 
ting  Jack  Frost  to  work,  more  was  care  for.  Consider  the  turnip!  If 
accomplished  than  just  to  introduce  turnips  carry  a  low  popularity  rat- 
an  ingenious  kitchen  appliance.  Bar-  ing  with  your  family,  plant  them 
riers  to  the  seasons  were  broken  sparingly,  or  better,  not  at  all.  Use 
down,  barriers  between  the  menus  the  space  for  crops  the  youngsters 
of  the  frigid,  temperate,  and  tropic-  like,  and,  if  you  must,  get  your 
al  zones— and  in  our  little  backyard  turnips  downtown  at  lunch, 
gardens— the  barriers  between  sur-  Another  mistake  is  over  planting, 
plus  wastes  and  economic  usage,  the  temptation  to  use  up  that  pack- 
The  home  freezer  has  given  ''the  age  of  seed.  If  your  garden  must 
man  with  the  hoe"  a  new  incentive  be  laid  out  in  long  rows,  it  is  often 
and  value.  wise  to  divide  these  rows  in  half 

Thanks  to  the  home  freezer,  the  with  stakes,  and  limit  plantings  of 

products  of  a  garden  that  could  be  a  variety  to  a  half  row. 
enjoyed  only  for  a  brief  season,  can 

now  be  prisoned  in  an  icy  package  JN  planning  a  garden  for  freezing 

and  kept  practically  garden   fresh  the  products,  one  must  give  first 

throughout  the  year.  place  to  those  that  freeze  well  and 

No  attempt  will  be  made  to  cov-  are  old  standbys:  corn,  peas,  beans, 

er  the  entire  field  of  desirable  re-  beets,  carrots.  Then  you  can  make 

gional  practices  or  the  pitfalls  of  your  choice  from  a  long  list  that  in- 

Page  253 



eludes  cabbage,  cauliflower,  broccoli, 
spinach,  squash,  melons,  and  as- 
paragus, guided  by  family  tastes,  the 
amount  of  ground  available,  and  cli- 
matic limitations.  To  round  out 
your  garden  patch,  some  space 
should  be  allotted  to  small  fruits, 
strawberries,  and  raspberries. 

Here  are  a  few  general  sugges- 

Spinach  and  broccoli:  keep  plantings 
small  and  follow  with  later  plantings,  ten 
days  to  two  weeks  apart. 

Corn:  If  your  season  is  long  enough 
for  early  and  late  varieties,  plant  each  in 
blocks  of  several  short  rows  rather  than 
one  long  row.  You  will  get  better  polli- 
nation and  better  filled  ears.  Ear  worms 
can  be  controlled  by  dusting  with  an  ap- 
proved insecticide  or  dabbing  on  crank 
case  drainings  as  soon  as  the  silks  appear. 

Peas:  The  larger  varieties,  such  as 
Stratagem,  Dwarf  Telephone,  or  Giant 
Stride  yield  heavier  and  are  easier  to  pick 
and  shell. 

Cabbage  and  cauliflower:  Buy  the 
plants  for  these!  Dust  with  a  powdered 
insecticide  several  times  during  the  grow- 
ing season  to  outwit  the  bugs.  After 
cauliflower  heads  have  formed,  tie  up 
leaves  around  heads  to  prevent  sunburn. 

Strawberries:  The  everbearing  va- 
rieties are  best  for  the  home  gardener. 
They  provide  fruit  all  summer  and  well 
into  the  fall.  The  Centennial  is  recom- 
mended. Plant  in  rows  eighteen  inches 
apart,  spacing  plants  a  foot  apart.  After 
three  or  four  years  of  bearing,  dig  up  a 
third  of  the  patch  and  replant  with 
young  runners.  Repeat  this  every  year, 
and  you  will  have  young  plants  always 
coming  on.  Everbearing  strawberries  tend 
to  bear  heavily  and  then  go  into  short  rest 
periods,  followed  by  new  bearings.  These 
bearing  and  rest  periods  vary  with  ages 
of  plants,  so  by  staggering  the  ages  of 
your  patch  you  will  always  have  berries 
for  table  use.  Keep  well  watered,  and 
if   berries   become   small,   scatter   a    good 

commercial  fertilizer  along  the  rows  and 
wet  down  with  lawn  spray.  For  regular 
irrigations,  row  waterings  arc  best. 

Raspberries:  Here  again,  the  ever- 
bearing varieties  are  recommended.  Rasp- 
berries require  plenty  of  elbow  room; 
three  to  four  feet  between  rows  and  at 
least  two  feet  between  plants.  Single 
plants  fill  up  unused  corners  attractively. 
If  heavy  snows  tend  to  break  down  canes, 
drive  stakes  into  ground  in  the  fall  and 
tie  up  plants.  Remember  that  the  canes 
that  grow  this  year  bear  the  berries  next 

Weeds:  If  treated  right  they  are  the 
gardeners  best  friends.  A  well-weeded 
patch  is  necessarily  a  well  cultivated  one. 
Get  after  weeds  early  before  they  get  the 
upper  hand  and  stunt  the  growth  of  the 
things   you've   planted. 

Time  for  Freezing 

One  of  the  delights  of  growing  a 
garden  is  that  many  varieties  mature 
quickly.  The  dividends  accrue  rap- 
idly both  in  terms  of  table  use  and 
largess  for  the  freezer.  Nearly  all 
garden  products  can  be  frozen  sat 
isfactorily;  the  exceptions  being 
onions,  lettuce,  and  other  salad 
greens,  radishes,  and  tomatoes. 
With  your  own  garden  close  at 
hand,  you  can  pick,  pack,  and  freeze 
each  product  at  the  peak  of  its 
goodness  and  thus  retain  vitamin 
and  flavor  richness. 

Freezing  is  one  of  the  simplest 
and  least  time-consuming  ways  to 
preserve  foods  at  home.  A  complete 
guide  of  the  preferred  methods  of 
preparing,  packing,  and  cooking  all 
types  of  foodstuffs  suitable  for  freez- 
ing is  to  be  found  in  Home  and 
Garden  Bulletin  No.  lo.  Home 
Freezing  of  Fruits  and  Vegetables, 
published  by  the  Superintendent  of 
Documents,  Washington,  D.C.  It 
will  be  mailed  to  you  for  fifteen 


cents.     More     detailed     directions  not  cook  or  otherwise  wrap  before 

may  be  found  in  Your  Home  Fieez-  freezing.     This  insures  a  firm  cob 

er,  by  Ann  Seranne  (Doubleday  &  and  no  cobby  taste  after  cooking. 

Co.,  Inc.,  New  York,  $3.75)   and  Snap   beans  are   usually   cut  or 

ihe    Complete    Book    of    Home  broken  into  short  pieces.    For  va- 

Freezmg,  by  Hazel  Meyer   (J.  P.  ^iety,  try  freezing  a  few  packages 

Lippmcott  Company,  Philadelphia,  of  the  whole  beans.  These  are  par- 

^4-95  )•  ticularly  nice  for  salads  and  can  be 

One  general  rule  should  be  re-  substituted  for  asparagus  either  as  a 

membered.    Nothing  but  the  best  base  or  for  top  garnishment. 

is  woithy  of  freezer  space.    What  Cantaloupes     and     wateimdons 

you  put  into  your  locker,  if  properly  ^hen  frozen  provide  another  tasty 

handled  and  protected,  can  be  pre-  sahd  ingredient.     Cut  choice  ripe 

served  in  the  same  good,  fresh  con-  meat  into  balls  or  cubes  and  pack 

dition  in  which  you  freeze  it— but  f^  a  container. 

it  will  not  be  improved     It  is  ex-  p^^  ^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^    ^^^^^^  u^^^^^., 

treme ly   important   to   be   sharply  ^^^^^  ^^        -^^^^  ^^  ^^^  ^i^^^^. 

critical  of  the  fruits  and  vegetables  f^^^^  .        ^^^      ^  ^^^  ^^^-^^  ^^^3 

you    select    for    freezing.    Discard  -^    ^^^'  f^^^^^f  ^^^j^    ^^^    „„, 

everything  with  bruised  or  overripe  ^™  ^d.    Allow  an  hour  at  room 

spots,  as  well  as  the  underripe  that  temperature  for  peaches  to  thaw, 

have  not  reached  their  full  peak  of  ^  ^^-^^  ^^^^  f^^  ^p^i^^^s.    Peel  and 

^^^^^*  slice  just  before  serving.     Dieters 

who  cannot  eat  sugared  fruits  will 

Preparation  for  Deep  Freeze  find  these  a  delectable  addition  to 

Everyone  who  uses  a  deep  freeze  their  menus, 

for  any  length  of  time  picks   up  Fiuits,  such  as  peaches,  apricots, 

many  ideas  and  practices  that  are  and  pears,  tend  to  turn  brown  when 

not  always  found  in  the  books.  Here  frozen.    This  can  be  prevented  by 

are  a  few  gathered  here  and  there  adding  one  half  teaspoon  of  ascorb- 

that  may  contribute  to  a  fuller  and  ic  acid  to  each  quart  of  the  sugar 

more  varied  use  of  your  freezer:  syrup  used  in  packing  them. 

Vegetables,  being  pre-cooked  be-  All   fruits   should   be   served   as 

fore   freezing,   need   less   time  for  soon  as  thawed.    A  few  ice  crystals 

cooking  than  fresh  ones.  Cook  just  in  the  fruit   improve   the   texture 

long  enough  to  tenderize  and  thus  for  eating  raw.    Allow  six  to  eight 

preserve  vitamins,  bright  color,  and  hours  for  thawing  a  one-pound  syr- 

fresh  flavor.    Vegetables  should  be  up  packed  package  in  the  refrig- 

cooked  at  once  after  thawing,  start-  erator;  two  to  four  hours  at  room 

ing   while   they  are   still   partially  temperature;  one-half  to  an  hour 

frozen.  in   a   pan   of  cold  water.     Fruits 

Corn  is  best  cut  from  the  cob  packed  in  dry  sugar  thaw  somewhat 

after  blanching.    For  winter  gour-  faster.    A  little  experimenting  will 

mets  a  few  whole  ears  may  well  be  give  you  the  proper  time  intervals 

frozen.     For    this,    choose    choice  of  your  type  of  container  between 

ears  and  leave  the  husks  on.     Do  freezer  and  serving. 

I  ie\K>   ^Jjesigns  for  ibaster  (bggs 

Courtesy  Dennison  Manufacturing  Company 

Here  is  a  basketful  of  ideas  to  help  you  design  the  many  eggs  to  fill  some  lucky 
youngster's  Easter  basket.  The  simplest  of  materials  are  used  to  create  these  amusing 
art  studies  in  egg  form! 

Starting  with  the  basic  form — the  egg — we  suggest  that  you  buy  a  dozen  china 
ones,  the  type  farmers  use  to  set  an  example  for  their  negligent  flock.  These  are  sturdier 
than  their  genuine  brothers  and  will  keep  indefinitely.  Of  course,  if  you  prefer,  you 
may  use  real  ones,  either  hard  boil  or  blow  each  egg  before  decorating  it.  Eggs  may 
either  be  dyed  with  any  pure  food  dye  or  covered  with  pastel  crepe  paper.  In  addition 
to  material  used  for  coloring  eggs,  you  will  need  bits  of  colored  crepe  paper,  paper  lace, 
doilies,  paste,  scraps  of  mat  stock,  ribbons,  tiny  gummed  dots  and  hearts. 

To  make  these  masterpieces  proceed  as  follows: 


Step  1 — Color  eggs — dye  them,  following  the  directions  on  the  dye  package,  or  wind 
them  with  Yi  inch  wide  strips  of  crepe  paper  cut  across  the  grain,  pasting  strips  fre- 
quently as  you  wind  so  they  will  stay  in  place. 

1.  CYNTHIA:  Here's  a  charming  little  lady  all  done  on  an  egg!  Wrap  the  egg 
first  with  pink  crepe  paper  (or  use  a  pink  dye)  to  give  her  a  lovely  glowing  complex- 
ion. Her  dashing  hairdo  is  made  from  narrow  strips  of  yellow  crepe  paper  curled  around 
a  knitting  needle  on  the  ends.  Her  mouth  is  a  gummed  heart — her  eyes  light  blue  and 
white  crepe  paper,  with  curling  black  eyelashes.  A  paper  lace  doily  makes  a  fetching 
hat,  especially  when  dashingly  decorated  with  a  pompon  of  slashed  light  blue  crepe 

Page  256 



2.  PERSONALITY  EGG:  Use  the  favorite  colors  of  the  recipient  for  this  egg, 
a  nice  pastel  one  for  the  background,  with  two  contrasting  colors  teaming  up  to  make 
the  two-strand  braid.  The  name  is  written  with  a  Vi  inch  wide  strand  of  a  deeper 
shade,  twisted  to  make  a  fine  cord.  Trace  name  on  egg  first.  Apply  paste  over  written 
name  with  a  toothpick  to  hold  twist  in  place.  Trim  edges  from  a  paper  doily,  paste 
in  place,  allowing  it  to  flare  slightly.    Paste  braid  over  inside  edge  of  doily. 

3.  FLOWERS  IN  A  FRAME:  Cover  the  egg  with  orchid-colored  crepe  paper 
and  decorate  it  with  a  braid  of  pink  and  deep  rose  crepe  paper.  Make  rosebuds  by 
cutting  two-inch  wide  strips  of  crepe  paper  across  the  grain  in  several  shades  (light 
pink,  dark  pink,  red,  yellow).  Unfold  a  strip  and  wind  it  on  itself  to  make  a  tiny  roll 
about  Vi  inch  thick,  then  cut  oflF  remaining  length  of  crepe  strip  and  paste  another 
color  to  the  roll.  Roll  this  second  strip  around  first  roll  to  make  a  V^  inch  thick  strip. 
Repeat  process  with  third  color  to  make  a  three-colored  rose.  Paste  end  of  last  strip 
down  to  roll,  and  paste  ''rosebuds"  on  egg,  using  a  few  leaves  cut  from  green  paper 
to  complete  the  bouquet. 

4.  QUIGLEY  THE  QUACK:  Wrap  two  eggs  with  canary  yellow  crepe  paper. 
Cut  two  bill  patterns  from  mat  stock  and  cover  with  amber  crepe  paper.  Paste  to 
narrow  end  of  one  egg.  Cut  eyes  from  colored  writing  paper  (blue),  and  for  the 
center  of  the  eye,  cut  a  small  square  of  black  paper.  Paste  eyes  on  sides  of  egg.  Paste 
the  "egg  head"  on  top  of  another  paper-covered  egg  towards  the  wide  end.  Wind 
around  the  neck  a  strip  of  yellow  crepe  paper  tie  ribbon  and  make  a  bow.  Then  paste 
the  completed  Quigley  to  mat  stock  covered  with  amber  crepe  paper. 

^Jjirections  for  (gardening 

Maude  Rubin 

One  principle  of  landscaping, 
As  all  good  gardeners  know, 
Is  planting  taller  plants  in  back 
In  front  plant  something  low. 

For  the  back,  I  chose  chrysanthemums 
You  know  how  tall  they  grow — 
In  front,  placed  English  daisies 
As  something  sweet  and  low. 

I  watered  them;  I  studied  books 
On  gardening  in  all  phases. 
My  daisy  flowers  are  big  as  mums — 
My  mums  look  just  like  daisies! 

diirst   {Bloom 

Sudie  Stuart  Hager 

In  springtime  every  woman  knows 
(No  man  could  ever  guess) 

The  way  a  half-grown  peach  tree  feels 
In  her  first  pink  party  dress! 

LUesert  cy  lowers 

Vesta  N.  Lukei 

The  brief 

Bright  jewels  of  spring 

Are  spilled  in  amethyst. 

And  topaz  drifts  across  the  gold 

Of  sand. 


uiandx^ork   (jLobbies    iunng   uiappiness 

Rose  Paskett  Cooke  Thompson,  Corinne,  Utah,  has  made  hundreds  of  rugs, 
doihes,  tablecloths,  and  decorative  items. 

Mrs.  Thompson,  sixty-two,  has  made  about  five  hundred  braided  rugs,  six  hundred 
pieces  of  miscellaneous  crocheting,  crocheted  edges  on  more  than  one  hundred  fifty 
handkerchiefs.  She  has  given  away  about  four  hundred  pieces  of  crocheted  work,  and  her 
crocheting  has  been  exhibited  in  twelve  states.  She  also  makes  exquisite  artificial 
flowers.  She  has  another  hobby  of  raising  outdoor  flowers,  specializing  in  iris,  of  which 
she  has  about  two  hundred  varieties,  and  roses  of  seventy-five  varieties. 

Her  Church  work  has  included  many  years  of  service  in  the  Primary  Association,  in- 
cluding four  years  as  ward  president;  teaching  in  Sunday  School;  and  visiting  teacher 
and  theology  class  leader  in  Relief  Society.  She  has  thirty  grandchildren  (including 
step-grandchildren)  and  four  great-grandchildren. 

Page  258 

^Participation  in  (Relief  Society   Can  SKelp 

Jxchie\?e  oJrue  uXappiness 

Edith  Kaneko 

THE  greatest  happiness  is  ere-  teachers  was  Brother  Payton  Alex- 

ated    through    service— serv-  ander,  and  his  Seminary  teacher  was 

ice  to  our  fellowmen  and  to  Brother  LeRoy  Whitehead. 

God.    Happiness  comes  from  with-  After  our  marriage  we  decided  to 

in.    It  is  the  result  of  satisfying  the  strike  a  happy  medium  and  settle 

soul.    We  have  a  responsibility  to  in   Spanish  Fork,  which   is  about 

be  happy,  not  alone  because  of  its  halfway  between  our  former  homes, 

effect  upon  us,  but  because  of  its  That  was  in  1941,  when  war  clouds 

effect  upon  others.     By  living  the  were  hanging  heavily  over  us,  and 

commandments  of  God  and  giving  I  often  wondered  how  the  people 

of  our  time  and  service  to  others,  of  Spanish  Fork  would  react  to  our 

we  may  forget  our  difficulties  and  coming,  since  there  were  strained 

also  spread  happiness  to  others.  feelings  between  the  people  of  the 

In   regard   to  this,   I   asked  our  land  of  my  ancestors  and  the  people 

ward  Relief  Society  President,  Pearl  of  this,  our  beloved  country.  Would 

Fillmore,  what  the  Relief  Society  they  accept  us,  and  if  they  did,  to 

has  done  for  her.     Was  it  just  a  whom  could  we  look  for  compan- 

lot  of  hard  work,  or  just  what  did  ionship? 

it  mean  to  her?  Such  questions  ran  through  my 

She  told  me,  'Tes,  there  is  a  lot  mind  constantly  as  we  worked  at 
of  hard  work— hours  and  hours  of  making  a  home  for  us  and  our  Httle 
it;  but  the  joy  Fve  received  from  boy,  who  was  just  one  year  old  at 
seeing  the  happiness  that  has  come  the  time.  As  if  in  answer  to  a 
to  others  through  my  efforts  has  prayer,  one  day  in  the  autumn  of 
repaid  me  many  fold.  Also,  coming  that  year,  two  Relief  Society  visit- 
to  Relief  Society  meetings  and  as-  ing  teachers  came  and  invited 
sociating  with  the  sisters  has  helped  me  out  to  Relief  Society.  Sister 
to  take  my  mind  off  our  trials  and  Ann  Nelson  and  Sister  Fanny  Vin- 
tribulations."  cent  have  probably  forgotten  this 

I  should  like  to  relate  my  person-  little  incident,  but  I  have  not,  he- 
al experience,  because  in  it  I  can  cause  the  visit  they  made  to  me 
best  explain  how  true  happiness  was  opened  up  a  way  towards  a  greater 
passed  on  to  me  through  an  act  of  and  brighter  life.  Little  do  they 
kindness  by  two  of  the  Relief  So-  realize  how  much  they  have  con- 
ciety  sisters  of  my  ward,  an  act  that  tributed  toward  making  my  life 
may  have  seemed  trivial  to  them.  what  it  is   today.    They  were  so 

I  was  born  and  reared  in  Tre-  friendly  and  so  sincere  that  I  had  a 
monton,  Utah,  and  my  husband  strong  desire  to  attend  their  meet- 
was  born  in  Salt  Lake  City,  but  ing. 

spent  most  of  his  life  in  Gunnison,  However,  I  was  just  a  little  hesi- 

Utah.      One    of    his    high    school  tant,  so  I  asked  my  husband  how 

Page  259 


he  felt  about  it.    He  told  me  that  portunity   to   satisfy  my   desire   to 

since  I  was  invited,  I  should  go.  So  sing. 

two  or  three  weeks  later  I  attended  As  time  went  on,  I  was  getting 

my    first    Relief    Society    meeting,  to  the  point  that  I  thought  that  I 

still  a  bit  doubtful.     But  all  my  ^ad  attained  the  height  of  happi- 

doubts  and  fears  left  me  when  I  ^ess,  but,  on  second  thought,  I  rea- 

entered  the  meetinghouse  and  went  ijzed  that  I  had  not,  and  I  would 

into  the  Relief  Society  room.  Never  never  attain  that  goal,  because   I 

before  had  I  been  in  a  place  where  ^^s  not  a  member  of  the  Church, 

friendliness  prevailed  in  such  rich  and  for  that  reason  my  services  to 

abundance.     I  could  feel  that  the  the  Church  were  very  limited. 

T'^''^  1^^  Lord  was   there,  al-  j  ^          ^^^^           little  boy  to 

^u^'^u  Kl^"^  "''*^''"^  ^^''''^  *^^  Sunday  School,  because  I  felt  that 

Church  at  that  time.  .^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^  ^-^  ^g. 

ligious  training  began  at  an  early 
^EVER  will  I  forget  the  warm  age,  more  so  because  it  had  been 
welcome  extended  to  me  by  neglected  in  mine.  I  believe  it  was 
Sister  Ida  Anderson,  who  was  the  during  these  moments  that  my  de- 
president  at  that  time.  I  shall  never  sire  to  join  the  Church  grew  strong- 
forget  her  kind  personality  and  the  er  than  ever.  I  often  hoped  and 
sweet  smile  with  which  she  quickly  prayed  that  some  day  I  would  be 
put  me  at  ease.  I  did  not  have  the  able  to  serve  the  Church  and  the 
privilege  of  knowing  her  very  long,  Lord  in  the  same  capacity  as  all 
as  she  passed  away  a  short  time  my  friends  were  doing, 
later.  I  went  home  from  Relief  years  slipped  by,  with  this  desire 
Society  that  day  with  a  feeling  of  growing  stronger  and  stronger.  Our 
satisfaction  that  there  are  friends,  boy^  Dayij,  was  nearing  the  age  of 
if  we  look  in  the  right  places  for  eight,  and  it  was  my  fervent  wish 
them,  and  I  had  a  stronger  desire  gg  ^gll  as  my  husband^  to  see  him 
than  ever  to  go  back  again.  baptized  into  the  Church  at  this 

It  wasn't   very   long   until   they  age  so  that  he  could  take  advantage 

asked  me  if  I  would  like  to  become  of  the  spiritual  opportunities  which 

a  member,  and  this  was  a  great  sur-  the    Church    offered    these   young 

prise  to  me,  as  I  thought  that  only  children. 

those  who  belonged  to  the  Church  r^^^^  j  ^^^    .  ^  ^^^  wonderful 

were  allowed  that  privilege.  As  time  -^  ^^^j^  ^^  .f  ^-^    ^^^^^ts  could  join 

went  on,  I  became  more  and  more  ^-^^  ^^^  the  three  go  down  into 

acquainted   with    the  activities   of  the  waters  of  baptism  together.  But 

the    Rehef    Society    and    of    the  j  ^^^j^  ^^^  that  my  husband  was 

Church  in  general.  ^^^  ^e^^y  f^^  this  yet,  and  I  did  not 

A  short  time  later  I  was  asked  to  want  to  be  baptized  unless  he  was 

join  the  Singing  Mothers,  and  no  with  me,  because  in  these  few  years 

one  can   realize  the   joy   I   experi-  I  had  learned  that  a  man  and  wife 

enced  from  my  participation  in  that  must  be  together,  for  neither  can 

work,  because  I  love  music,  and  up  attain  exaltation  without  the  other, 

to  that  time  had  had  very  little  op-  It  was  my  earnest  prayer  that  some 



day  he  would  see  the  Hght  as  I  had 
already  done  and  accept  the  gospel. 

r\AVID'S  eighth  birthday  came 
and  went,  and  we  did  nothing, 
and  by  the  time  he  was  eight  and 
one  half  I  began  to  wonder  if  my 
hopes  were  in  vain,  but  I  wouldn't 
give  up,  because  something  told  me 
that  everything  would  turn  out  all 
right.  Then  about  two  months  be- 
fore David's  ninth  birthday,  when 
I  asked  my  husband  what  he 
thought  about  it,  he  said,  *'If  that 
is  what  you  want,  then  that  is  what 
I  want.    I,  too,  am  ready." 

The  following  day— the  day  of 
our  confirmation— it  all  seemed  like 
a  dream  that  we  were  actually  par- 
taking of  the  sacrament,  and  as  we 
took  it  we  felt  the  presence  of  the 
spirit  of  the  Lord  as  we  had  never 
felt  it  before.  Until  this  day  we 
had   been   merely  existing.     From 

that  day  on,  we  really  began  to  live. 
Now  we  are  able  to  participate  in 
all  activities  of  the  Church  just  like 
the  other  members,  and  thus  our 
service  to  the  Lord  is  not  limited. 

But  we  realized  the  height  of 
happiness  had  not  yet  been  reached 
at  this  point.  We  learned  that  in 
order  to  have  this  joy  in  the  world 
to  come,  we  must  go  to  the  house 
of  the  Lord  and  be  sealed  to  each 
other.  Meanwhile  Duane  and  Paul 
had  joined  our  family,  so  two  years 
after  the  baptism,  the  five  of  us 
went  to  the  Salt  Lake  temple  and 
were  sealed  to  each  other  for  time 
and  for  all  eternity,  and  now  we 
have  little  Diane,  born  under  the 
true  and  everlasting  covenant.  We 
have  found  true  joy.  I  need  ask 
for  no  more.  All  this  spiritual 
wealth  was  brought  to  us  through 
the  little  service  rendered  by  the 
two  Relief  Society  sisters. 

cyulips  in  the   Vi/ind 

Evelyn  F/eldsted 

Bending  forward  in  a  gale,  they  seem 

To  all  be  going  somewhere  far  away, 

But,  in  the  changing  evening  wind,  they  turn 

And  seem  to  hurry  back  while  it  is  day. 

Morning  finds  them  standing  straight  and  tall, 
A  garden  study  in  tranquihty. 
Undaunted  by  the  wind  and  lingering  frost, 
They  raise  their  regal  heads  triumphantly. 

^t    Tllast   (Be  Spring 

Hild^  V.  Cameron 

It  must  be  spring, 

For  my  honeysuckle  vine 

Is  splotched  with  pastel  beauty 

Like  a  lovely  valentine. 

And  at  dawn  this  morning 

I  heard  a  robin  sing; 

Though  chilly  winds  torment  me, 

I  know  it  must  be  spring. 

Sunshine  and  U\ 


Ruth  K.  Kent 

It  takes  a  lot  of  clouds 
To  make  it  rain  all  day; 
It  takes  a  lot  of  sun 
To  drive  the  clouds  away; 
It  takes  a  lot  of  frowns 
To  make  a  child  look  sad, 
But  only  one  big  smile 
To  make  a  child  feel  glad. 

"Within  Our  Reach" 

Donna  Day 

THE  boy,  emerging  from  the  ture  lay  down  the  long,  straight 
flow  of  sleep,  lay  quietly  in  autumn  road, 
his  bed  on  the  back  porch.  The  wheels  of  the  car  stirred  and 
With  intense  loneliness,  he  con-  rattled  the  brown  leaves,  and 
templated  the  tremendous  and  mov-  they  scattered  down  the  road  be- 
ing quietness  of  awakening.  Could  hind  them  as  noisily  as  rustlers  on 
one  awaken  and  continue  dream-  a  midnight  ride.  A  sagebrush  plain 
ing?  The  slow  consciousness  of  his  appeared  as  the  road  ran  level  and 
surroundings  took  shape  out  of  unbroken  to  the  base  of  the  distant 
shadow.  That  first  light  brought  mountain.  Then  the  land  swept 
the  sudden  realization  that  tomor-  upward  to  the  lift  of  the  crater's 
row  they  would  go  to  the  crater.  No,  shoulder.  The  crater  was  not  as  big 
not  tomorrow.  Today/  Lifting  as  the  boy  had  anticipated, 
himself  abruptly,  he  started  to  The  mother  parked  the  car  at 
climb  out  of  bed.  There  were  so  the  base  of  the  mountain,  and  the 
many  wonderful  things  to  see  and  two  started  the  climb  up  the  steep 
think  about.  side.    It  was  a  desolate  slope,  warm 

Suddenly  his  mother  stood  in  the  and     dusty.     Coarse     cinder     ash 

kitchen   doorway   looking   upward,  sucked  at  their  feet.  The  pea-sized 

Out  of  the  glowing  east,  spears  of  lava    fragments    were    pierced    by 

sunlight  illuminated  her  face  and  scrub  brush  and  rough  salt  grasses, 

put  a  glitter  in  her  pale  hair.    She  Their  breath  came  in  short  gasps, 

shook  out  her  apron  as  if  it  were  with  the  sensation  that  the  world 

sun  crumbs  she  was  scattering.  was  slipping  back  while  they  were 

Quickly  the  boy  was  out  of  bed  standing  still.     But,   at  last,   they 

to  inquire  fervently  if  his  mother  reached  the  first  level,  where  an  old 

remembered  the  promised  visit  to  road   wound    around    through   the 

the  crater.  red  and.  gray  rocks.  The  boy  and 

Could  she  forget  when  a  pair  of  his  mother  sat  down  to  rest.  It  was 

wide,  inquiring  eyes  looked  at  her?  changed  air  they  breathed,  ancient 

The  boy  dressed  quickly  in  the  and  aromatic, 

circle  of  the  warmth  made  by  the  Shortly  the   boy   stood   up   and 

kitchen   range.     The  bacon   sput-  studied  the  magic-shaped  cone  that 

tered  and  the  eggs  bounced  in  the  towered    above    them.    The    crest 

bubbling  water.  seemed  to  have  risen  a  little  toward 

After  breakfast  he  carried  their  the  sky  like  an  elevated,  dancing 

lunch  to  the  car.    When,  at  last,  platform.  The  boy  gazed  up  with 

he  was  in  the  car,  he  could  not  sit  an  awe  that  is  only  for  those  who 

still.     His   heart   knew   a   strange  are  young.     The  whole  marvelous 

soaring.    He  had  waited  all  summer  mystery  of  creation   came  rushing 

for  this  trip  to  the  crater.    Adven-  down  to  meet  him,  and  then,  he 

Page  262 


was  off  up  the  old  road  that  curved  tous  journey  from  which  no  child 

around  toward  the  heart  of  the  era-  returns  the  same. 

^^^-  She  lay  down  beside  the  boy  on 

The  mother  rose  and  followed,  the  hard  flowing  rock.  The  top  of 

humbly,  the  golden  and  jubilant  life  the  crater  lay  baking  in  the  fire  of 

of  childhood.  the  October  sun.     She  could  feel 

her  skin  broiling  a  little  in  the  heat. 

A  few  minutes  more  and  the  wind-  It  was  not  an  invisible  thing.    She 

ing  road  on  the  crater's  flank  could  see  the  heat  dancing  and  v/av- 

ended.       Then,     gully    by     gully,  ing  like  a  veil.     But  the  heat  was 

fold  by  fold,  over  the  fire-red  rock  as  nothing,  for  the  mother  sat  with 

they  advanced,  pathless,  toward  the  her  son  in  a  magnificent  frame,  sur- 

top.     The  ancient  volcanic  stream  rounded   by   the   silent  beginning, 

spilled  down  the  sides  in  rude,  lim-  and  received  into  the  enduring  past, 

itless     convolutions.      Their     feet  Centuries    and    centuries   of    time 

crunched  and  slipped,  the  sliding  pressed  against  them,  each  distort- 

rocks  flung  handfuls  of  lost  echoes  ed  convolution  of  cold  lava  became 

down    through    the    ragged    crater  a     chapter     of    history     compiled 

edges.    Light  from  above,  refracted,  through  the  ages.    Eons  of  rain  and 

stung  their  eyes,  and  flooded  the  wind  had  beaten  and  chiseled  the 

jutting  rocks  with  a  thousand  colors,  crater.  The  fiery  birth  of  creation 

They  finally  stood  on  the  top,  on  lay  sleeping  all  about  them.    The 

the  edge  of  the  highest  cone,  and  desolate  and   violent  country   was 

surveyed  the  gaping  chasm  below,  part  of  their  homeland  and  their 

Two  smaller  craters  overlapped  the  heritage,  stretching  from  the  base 

western  side.  of  the  cones  to  the  dark  lines  of 

The   boy   flung   himself   on   his  mountains  on  the  horizon.    Cloud 

stomach,     staring     transfixed,     his  shadows  passed  above  the  timeless 

mouth    open   a   little,   his   tousled  wilderness,    followed    by    sunlight 

head  tilted  on  one  side.    His  hazel  that  crept  across  the  land, 
eyes,   lost   in   wonder,   were   never 

still.    A  dye  made  of  sunshine  and  HPHE  boy  and  his  mother  watched 

afternoon     stirred     his     hair     to  quietly   for   a   long   time   and 

creamed  gold  and  coppered  his  skin,  knew   the  communion   of   silence, 

Those  were  moments  of  breath-  which  was  the  strong  binder  of  their 
less  silence  while  the  crater  yielded  affection.  Finally,  the  boy  stood  up 
up  its  peculiar,  savage  kind  of  beau-  with  restlessness,  stretched  himself 
ty  that  whipped  and  sharpened  the  with  one  sharp  movement.  Then 
imagination.  Then  the  mother  he  opened  his  arms  wide,  taking  m 
heard  the  boy  s  fast,  indrawn  breath,  all  the  crater,  the  whole  earth,  the 
The  boy  was  regarding  the  scene  everlasting  heavens,  in  a  great  em- 
with  both  curiosity  and  consterna-  brace.  His  face  was  pleased,  warm, 
tion.  His  eyes  were  squinting,  now,  For  a  moment  the  face  turned  to- 
with  intensity  of  purpose,  his  wide  ward  the  mother  was  the  face  of  a 
forehead  puckered.  His  mother  young  child  before  a  lighted  Christ- 
knew  he  had  started  that  momen-  mas  tree.  His  mother  reached  up 



and  took  his  hand  in  hers.  He  play- 
fully tugged  her  to  her  feet. 

Across  a  lazy  spot  where  salt  grass 
and  rabbit  brush  crowded  each  oth- 
er in  the  shallow  soil,  then  down 
into  the  wide  mouth,  they  threaded 
their  way.  Down  scaly  outcrop- 
pings  the  boy  picked  a  path,  with 
his  mother's  slender  shadow  behind, 
down  steps  cut  in  the  immemorial 
past.  It  was  a  wonderful  thing  to 
go  plunging  down,  digging  heels  in, 
the  sensation  of  falling,  yet  not 
falling,  stiffening  the  knees  and  dig- 
ging the  heels  in,  the  sheer  joy  of 

Time  had  tamed  the  giant  vol- 
cano with  its  spectacular  eruptions. 
Strange  shapes,  which  marked  its 
death  agonies,  crowded  the  wide 
pit.  Against  the  blue  steep  of  the 
sky,  terrifying  crags  overhung  the 
rim;  the  black  angular  rocks,  sheared 
and  smoky,  clung  about  the  walls. 
Stealing  through  a  gap  between  two 
towering  stones,  the  mother  and 
the  boy  entered  the  crater,  shad- 
owed from  the  afternoon  glow  by 
the  southern  pinnacles.  Concealed 
in  the  mottled  shadow,  they  mount- 
ed a  dais  of  weird,  grotesque  stones 
and    climbed    the   precipices   with 

their  eyes,  up  and  up  to  the  gaping 
hole  cut  by  the  ancient  lava  flow. 

It  was  like  standing  in  a  great 
amphitheater  with  a  ragged  hole  in 
its  side,  tremendous,  dark,  leached 
by  a  thousand  storms,  brimming 
with  reflected  lights.  The  fragile, 
transparent  blue  of  the  sky  deep- 
ened above  until  the  color  could 
reach  no  further  intensity.  It  broke 
off  suddenly  into  a  bank  of  clouds. 
To  the  mother,  it  was  like  being 
alone  in  the  vast  universe,  but  to 
the  boy,  it  was  part  of  the  eternal 
earth,  something  he  had  always 
known,  like  the  slow  awakening  on 
an  autumn  morning. 

It  was  one  of  the  perfect  days  of 
life  snatched  from  the  confusion 
of  living,  a  day  of  pleasure  that 
nothing  could  corrode,  nor  time  re- 
move, a  part  of  the  precious  herit- 
age of  childhood— and  of  mother- 

The  hour,  the  height  and  depth 
.  .  .  everything  had  sharpened  their 
appetites.  They  would  be  fam- 
ished by  the  time  they  reached  the 

The  mother  watched  the  boy  for 
a  moment  longer,  then  she  slowly 
followed  him  up,  up  toward  the 
slanting  light. 

Kjifter  JLong    LJears 

Beatrice  Knowlton  Ekman 

After  long  years  of  questing  to  and  fro. 
This  homely  kitchen  is  a  restful  place; 
Tlie  smell  of  burning  pine,  the  rudy  glow 
Of  firelight  upon  each  loved  one's  face  .  .  .  . 
Let  me  find  anchor  here  and  end  my  quest 
In  this  old  house  that  memory  has  blessed. 

qJ  V    Viewers — LOown  in  cfront 

Eloise  Stiinz 

'T^HE  problem  of  keeping  the  youngest  member  of  our  family  seated  during  a  television 
-'■       program,  arrived  with  the  nevv'  set.    The  youngest  was  given  the  place  of  honor  on 
the  ottoman,  front  row  center  aisle.    Being  a  wiggler  from  way  back,  he  wouldn't  stay 
put.    With  his  head  in  front  of  the  screen,  we  viewed  the  back  of  his  neck. 

Young  children  have  an  excellent  close  range  vision.  This  accounts  for  their  desire 
to  sit  close  to  a  viewing  screen.  However,  their  interest  is  too  short-lived  to  retain  one 
position  long.    Since  their  boundless  energy  must  be  considered,  miniature  seats  are  out. 

The  preservation  of  our  family  television  unity  cost  only  $2.76 — and  a  little  sewing 
time.  I  made  a  slipcover  for  the  crib  mattress  our  baby  had  outgrown.  For  the  ben- 
efit of  mothers  who  must  use  the  crib  for  the  next  in  line,  a  second-hand  crib  pad, 
sterilized,  can  be  obtained  for  a  few  dollars. 

With  four  and  one-fourth  yards  of  thirty-six  inch  denim,  at  fifty-nine  cents  a  yard, 
a  packet  of  snap  fasteners  costing  twenty-five  cents,  I  had  everything  I  needed  to  work 
with.    Denim  may  be  obtained  in  plain  colors  or  in  designs  of  floral  pattern  and  plaids. 

A  standard  crib  mattress  measures  fifty-six  by  thirty  inches,  and  is  four  inches  deep. 
Cut  the  top  and  bottom  covering  first.  Allow  five  extra  inches  on  the  top  cover.  This 
will  be  used  as  a  flap  at  the  open  end. 

On  the  remaining  material,  mark  strips  four  and  one-fourth  inches  wide.  Nip  and 
tear  in  strips.  Sew  the  strips  together.  Twice  the  length  and  once  the  width  will  be 
used  for  the  sides  of  the  cover.    The  remainder  of  the  strip  will  be  used  for  a  ruffle. 

Roll  hem  on  one  side  of  the  strip,  to  be  used  for  the  ruffle.  On  the  raw  side  of 
the  strip,  measure  every  three  inches  and  pleat  one  inch  of  material  with  a  basting  stitch. 

For  the  top  covering,  hem  one  end  with  a  one-inch  fold.  Roll  hem  either  side 
for  a  depth  of  five  inches.  Attach  the  ruffle  with  the  design  facing  the  design  of  the 
top  cover.  Pin  the  siding  strip,  its  design  turned  away  from  you,  on  top  of  the  ruffle. 
Sew  the  width  of  the  cover,  starting  at  the  end  of  the  rolled  hem.  This  pleating,  or 
ruffle,  encircles  the  top  cover.  While  working  on  the  bottom  cover,  the  material  is 
turned  wrong  side  out.  Do  not  attach  fasteners  until  the  slip  cover  is  finished.  Then 
mark  carefully  as  this  assures  a  better  fit. 

The  mat,  with  its  slip  cover,  resembles  a  well-tailored  pillow.  It  can  be  tucked 
away  in  a  closet  when  not  in  use.  Don't  be  surprised  if  the  older  children  find  it 
comfortable  to  lounge  on.  Of  course,  the  legal  owner  will  have  something  to  say 
about  this. 

No  longer  is  it  necessary  to  tap  our  youngest  on  the  shoulder  during  a  program  and 
say,  "Pardon  me,  but  your  head  is  showing." 


Alice  Whitson  Norton 

The  gentle  voice  of  springtime  called, 

"Come  walk  with  me" — 

But  I  denied  the  urgent  voice. 

Lest  I  might  see 

Along  a  path  I'd  marked  with  gloom 

A  crocus  border  in  full  bloom. 

Page  265 

The  Deeper  Melody 

Chapter  7 
Alice  Money  Bailey 

Synopsis:  Steven  Thorpe,  a  widower 
with  three  small  children,  is  in  love  with 
Margaret  Grain,  a  registered  nurse  who 
has  taken  care  of  his  baby  during  an  at- 
tack of  pneumonia.  However,  Margaret 
is  engaged  to  Dr.  Rex  Harmon,  and,  as 
the  time  for  her  marriage  approaches, 
Steven  feels  that  he  has  little  chance  of 
winning  her.  In  the  meantime  he  has 
become  unwillingly  involved  in  a  romance 
with  Miss  Tate,  his  secretary  at  the 
Pikes  Peak  Machinery  Company.  Mar- 
garet's mother,  a  widow,  who  is  temp- 
orarily acting  as  Steven's  housekeeper,  tells 
him  that  she  thinks  he  should  declare  his 
love  for  Margaret  even  though  she  is 
about  to  become  the  wife  of  Dr.  Har- 
mon. Accordingly,  he  seeks  an  oppor- 
tunity and  tells  Margaret  that  he  loves 

4  4  T  love  you,  Margaret/'  Steve 
I  repeated.  His  words  were  a 
pebble  dropped  into  a  pool 
of  silence;  her  reaction  to  them  like 
widening  rings  of  light— the  deep 
look  of  joy,  the  swift  glad  lift  of  her 
eyes,  the  radiance  in  her  face,  which 
brought  Steve  to  his  feet,  his  heart 
pounding  mightily.  Suddenly  he 
was  around  the  desk,  and  she  was 
in  his  arms.  Kissing  her  was  a  lost 
interval  in  time  and  space.  Its  mo- 
ment, brief  or  long,  was  part  of 
infinity,  part  of  eternity.  She  was 
the  first  to  pull  away. 

"Steve!    Steve,  it's  no  use." 

''Margaret!  I  love  you  so  much. 
Look  at  me,  darling." 

"I  can't,"  she  said.  "I'm  on 
duty.  I'm  engaged  to  Dr.  Harmon." 

Steve  released  her  and  stepped 
back.  "I  know  that.  I've  thought 
of  nothing  else  for  weeks.  Believe 
me,  Margaret,  I'd  have  come  before 
if  I'd  thought  I  had  either  a  right 

Page  266 

or  a  chance.  You've  drawn  me  like 
a  magnet  since  the  very  first.  I  felt 
you  were  my  own,  made  for  me. 
I  was  sure  long  ago,  but  there  was 
Dr.  Harmon.  There  were  my  chil- 
dren. It  seemed  unfair  to  ask  you 
to  share  such  responsibility." 

"I'm  trained  to  responsibihty, 
Steve,"  said  Margaret.  "Besides  I 
love  the  children— Davcy,  Ilcne, 
and  little  Phyllis.  I  could  take  them 
for  my  own.  In  spite  of  me,  I  did 
take  them  for  my  own.  I  found 
myself  planning  for  them  as  they 
grew.  I  couldn't  sleep,  sometimes, 
thinking  of  them,  feeling  I  was  run- 
ning out  on  them.  That  was  why 
I  shut  myself  off  from  them." 

"And  their  father?"  prompted 
Steve.  "Were  you  a  little  drawn  to 

"Please,  Steve,"  she  said,  lifting 
miserable  eyes  to  his.  "I  have  felt 
guilty  enough  about  that.  I  didn't 
tell  Rex,  but  I  tried  to  make  it  up 
to  him." 

Steve's  heart  leaped.  A  million 
questions  pressed  his  tongue.  He 
leaned  across  the  desk  to  her. 

"You  don't  love  him.  You  love 

"What  are  you  saying?  He's  a 
wonderful  man,  and  a  genius  in  his 

"That  is  not  love,"  Steve  began, 
and  the  telephone  rang. 

It  was  the  dreaded  interruption, 
an  emergency.  Before  his  eyes 
Margaret  was  transformed  from  an 
appealingly  uncertain  woman— all 
woman— to  an  alert  nurse,  full  of 
authority   and   decision;   from    the 



circle  of  his  arms,  from  being  his 
own  a  moment  ago,  she  receded 
from  him  rapidly,  becoming  remote 
in  the  urgency  of  her  work.  From 
this  distance  she  spoke  to  him  with 

''Steve,  this  is  madness.  The  in- 
vitations are  out— some  gifts  have 
already  arrived.  Dr.  Hanson  and 
his  wife  have  loaned  us  their  beau- 
tiful home  for  the  reception.  Every- 
thing is  arranged.  Of  course  I  shall 
marry  Dr.  Harmon,*'  she  said,  and 
disappeared  swiftly  down  the  hall 
on  her  soundless  nurse's  shoes. 

CTEVE  left  the  hospital  with 
mixed  feelings.  Her  answer  had 
cut  him  sharply,  left  no  opening,  no 
possibility  of  continuance.  His  hope 
of  changing  it  was  balked  by  sheer 
lack  of  time,  but  the  remembrance 
of  her  quick  look  of  joy,  her  radi- 
ance, her  tacit  admission  that  she 
was  emotionally  drawn  to  him  were 
warm  knowledge.  And  that  kiss! 
If  she  could  deny  that,  she  was  less 
of  a  woman  than  he  thought. 

It  was  knowledge  and  memory 
that  turned  inevitably  to  pain,  how- 
ever, as  the  days  followed.  It  was 
part  of  all  the  beauty  he  wanted 
to  share  with  her,  and  could  not, 
of  the  flowers  that  were  on  every 
hand,  the  flowers  which  were  the 
usual  messengers  of  a  man's  love 
for  a  girl,  which  he  could  not  send 
—lilacs,  violets,  roses  coming  to  bud 
on  the  trellises  in  the  May  sunshine. 
There  were  other  messengers- 
books,  candy,  letters.  She  had  his 
message,  straight  and  hard,  and  bare 
of  embellishments.  Bombarding  her 
with  pleadings  now  might  be  only 
an  annoyance  to  her  during  the  days 
which  should  be  those  of  happy 
anticipation.    They  could,  granting 

he  were  persistent  enough,  harry 
her  into  a  confused  and  forced  de- 
cision. Much  as  Steve  wanted  her, 
he  told  himself,  he  could  bear  no 
half  measures.  Certainly  the  next 
move  was  hers. 

The  week  was  a  nightmare.  Part 
of  Steve  worked  furiously  on  the 
job,  went  through  the  motions  at 
home,  smiled  at  the  correct  time, 
said  the  right  words,  made  the  right 
moves.  Part  of  him  stood  back  and 
watched  almost  impersonally  the 
holocaust  seething  within  him.  He 
must  again  assume  his  old  responsi- 
bility for  the  little  ones,  which  late- 
ly had  been  left  mostly  to  Mrs. 
Grain.  Eventually  they  would  fill 
his  time  and  his  thoughts,  and 
neither  would  be  a  loss,  for,  along 
with  the  worry  over  them  and  the 
compounded  fears  he  had  for  them, 
they  were  a  constant  delight,  a 
source  of  perpetual  amazement  to 
him,  as  well  as  heart-tugging  pathos, 
as  when  they  talked  of  their  moth- 

"Did  my  real  mama  die?"  Davey 
asked  one  day. 

"She  went  away,"  Steve  said. 

"Did  she  go  to  heaven?" 

"Yes,  Davey.  She's  waiting  there 
for  us.    Some  day  we'll  go  to  her." 

"Ilene  go  to  heaven  Saturday," 
Ilene  put  in  brightly.  Everything 
in  the  past  was  to  her  "last  morn- 
ing," and  everything  in  the  future 
was  "Saturday."  "Ilene  go  Satur- 
day. See  Ilene's  mama.  Bring  her 
home  again."  She  laughed  and 
shook  her  curls  in  gamin  delight, 
and  Phyllis  laughed,  too,  clapping 
her  hands  and  wrinkling  her  small 

"Saturday    I'll    take   you    all    to 

the    circus,"    Steve    promised,    to 

(Continued  on  page  275) 


Maigaiet  C.  Pickering,  General  Secretary-Treasurer 
All  material  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission   Relief  Society  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  "Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950,  page  278,  and 
the  Handbook  of  InstiuctionSy  page  123, 


Photograph  submitted  by  Laura  M.  Wilkin 


September  30,  1953 

Front  row,  left  to  right:  Verena  Waldron,  First  Counselor;  Laura  M.  Wilkin, 
President;  Elmina  Toone,  Second  Counselor;  Coy  Manning,  chorister. 

At  right  end  of  second  row,  in  dark  dress,  Ireta  Arave,  organist. 

This  group,  which  presented  the  music  for  the  opening  session  of  the  Relief 
Society  General  Conference,  September  30,  1953,  also  presented  in  Oquirrh  Stake  last 
spring  the  Easter  cantata  "Resurrection  Morning,"  by  B.  Cecil  Gates  and  Ida  R.  All- 
dredge.  Sister  Marianne  C.  Sharp  of  the  general  presidency  of  Relief  Society  was  guest 
speaker.  A  special  scriptural  reading  was  given  by  Pearl  Apostle.  Special  solo  and  trio 
numbers  of  the  cantata  were  given  by  Ward  Coon,  Ivor  Pickering,  Shirley  J.  Duke, 
Betty  Lou  Jones,  and  Alice  Gourley;  Betty  Heath,  Helen  Jeppson,  Florence  Cockerill, 
and  Jeane  Smith.  Pianist  was  Billie  C.  Andreason.  This  same  group  has  sung  for 
stake  conferences  and  other  special  meetings  sponsored  by  the  Church  and  the  com- 
munity recently. 

Page  268 



Photograph  submitted  by  Esther  Miller 


Seated,  left  to  right:  Vida  Brinton  (1945-1952);  Fanna  Dana  (1909-1913). 
Standing,  left   to   right:    Mary  Davis    (1938-39);   Clara   Goodman    (1939-1943); 
Eleanor  Shupe  (1932-1938);  Irene  Brown  (1943-1945). 

Not  in  the  photograph  is  Mary  Clark,  deceased,  who  served  from  1913  to  1932. 
Esther  Miller  is  the  new  president  of  Maricopa  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Claire  B.  Jones 



Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Viola  Bauer;  Vera  Nelson;  Arvilla  Adams;  Belle 
Jones;  Lauretta  Perry,  stake  Secretary;  Verona  Mosdell;  Ardella  Ford,  First  Counselor; 
Lillian  Randall,  President;  Lamona  Langford,  Second  Counselor;  Rena  Lawrence;  Thel- 
ma  MelHng;  Nell  Heywood;  Maude  Robinson. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Leah  Bess;  Henrietta  Leigh;  Genevieve  Mailing; 
Harriet  Hunter;  Beth  Ence;  Astella  Cason;  Rose  Lawrence;  Olive  Knell;  Lottie  Bladen; 
Mary  P.  Bauer;  Theressa  Peterson;  Alice  Matheson;  Carol  Draper;  Caroline  Jordan; 
Loie  Jean  Murray;  Nina  MulHner. 

Claire  B.  Jones  is  president  of  Cedar  Stake  Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Edith  Anderson 

CONVENTION,  December  29,  1593 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  stake  board  members,  beginning  second  from  the 
left:  Second  Counselor  Lucille  Chandler;  President  Delia  W.  Alder;  First  Counselor 
Dorothy  Zaugg;  literature  leader  Hazel  Closner;  Magazine  representative  Amy  R.  Wil- 

Edith  Anderson,  stake  Secretary,  reports:  "We  hold  a  convention  each  year.  We 
stress  the  true  spirit  of  visiting  teaching  and  twelve  visits  each  year  to  each  Latter-day 
Saint  family.  We  honor  those  teachers  who  achieve  100  per  cent  visiting  teaching.  Some 
of  our  teachers  have  been  so  honored  for  nine  consecutive  years.  One  hundred  thirteen 
visiting  teachers  out  of  187  in  the  stake  were  honored  this  year  for  100  per  cent  rec- 
ords.   Only  part  of  the  teachers  are  represented  in  this  photograph." 

Photograph  submitted  by  Amelia  H.  Robertson 



Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Mary  Helen  Giles;  Ethel  Winkelman;  Louise 
Hawley;  Ruth  Hecht. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Vada  Tirrell;  Zona  Roper;  LeNore  Lewis;  Irene 
Safford;  Elizabeth  Bunn. 

Ameha  H.  Robertson  is  president  of  Big  Horn  Stake  Relief  Society. 



Photograph  submitted  by  Luella  W.  Walker 

FOR  STAKE  QUARTERLY  CONFERENCE,  September  13,  1953 

Standing  at  extreme  right:  Edna  B.  Taylor,  stake  chorister. 

Standing  at  left  of  the  piano:  True  R.  Field,  organist. 

Luella  W.  Walker  is  president  of  South  Summit  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Lyle  J.  Coombs 


OFFICERS,  January  1954 

Front  row,  left  to  right:  DeLoris  Carruth,  President,  Fresno  Second  Ward  Relief 
Society;  Zella  L.  Sheley,  President,  Tulare  Branch  Relief  Society;  Marguerite  Mangine, 
President,  Exeter  Branch;  Thelma  Little,  President,  Hanford  Branch;  Corine  Watson, 
President,  Merced  Ward;  Emerald  Mentzel,  President,  Dinuba  Branch. 

Back  row,  left  to  right:  Virginia  Castillo,  Secretary,  West  Fresno  Branch;  Ina  Clay, 
President,  Chowchilla  Ward;  Ethyl  Buttcane,  First  Counselor,  Coalinga  Branch;  Sarah 
C.  Thomas,  President,  Avenal  Branch;  Barbara  Works,  President,  Fresno  First  Ward; 
Golda  Henderson,  President,  Visalia  Ward;  Naomi  McEwen,  President,  Los  Banos 

Ascencion  Carillo,  President,  West  Fresno  Branch,  and  Eva  Winsett,  President, 
Coalinga  Branch,  were  absent  on  account  of  illness  when  this  photograph  was  taken. 

Lyle  J.  Coombs,  President,  Fresno  Stake  Relief  Society,  reports:  "All  of  the  of- 
ficers were  very  modest  when  we  asked  for  pictures  for  the  Magazine,  but  we  felt  that 
they  all  should  have  recognition  for  what  they  have  done.  As  a  group,  they  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  Fresno  Stake  showing  improvement  all  along  the  line,  as  shown  by 
our  annual  report." 



Photograph  submitted  by  Grace  C.  Crandall 




Officers  and  Visiting  Teachers,  front  row,  seated,  left  to  right,  members  of  the 
presidencies  who  have  served  during  the  past  six  years:  Minerva  Jessee;  Helen  Robbins; 
Hazel  Harrison;  Floss  Phillips;  Margaret  Huntington;  Ethlyn  Eddington;  Ina  Otteson. 

Second  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Emily  Crandall,  who  recently  celebrated  her 
ninetieth  birthday;  Ellen  Erdman;  Chloe  Fox;  Ileen  Jensen;  Mamie  Curtis;  Carrie 
Rawle;  Stella  Harmer;  Mildred  Graham. 

Third  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Mary  Frandsen;  Floss  Taylor;  Lillian  Crandall; 
Florence  Simkins;  Anabelle  Llewellyn;  Naomi  Johnson;  Ella  Curtis;  Edna  Smart; 
Camilla  Judd;  Preal  York;  Bessie  Brammel;  Norma  Strong;  Nellie  Anderson;  Easter 
Harmer;  Rowena  Rigtrip. 

Grace  C.  Crandall  is  president  of  Kolob  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Vinetta  R.  Simpson 


Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Rhoda  Mumford;  Leela  Ferrin;  Ellen  Weaver, 
Secretary-Treasurer;  Lillie  Belnap,  Second  Counselor;  Pearl  Dransfield,  President; 
Maude  K.  Smith,  First  Counselor;  Annie  Hiatt,  oldest  member,  ninety  years  old. 



Second  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Hannah  B.  Evans;  Frances  Owens;  Lelia  Wright; 
Janie  Ophenkins;  Jennie  Bragonjie;  Vinetta  Simpson;  MiUie  Garff;  Priscilla  Sneddon. 

Third  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  May  Hansen;  Eva  Bothwell;  Anna  Boyle;  Rhoda 
Wilker;  Muriel  Saxton;  Annie  Terry;  Dora  B.  Peterson;  Sadie  Masters;  Edna  Hunt; 
Alice  Kihlstrom. 

Fourth  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Eva  Galbraith;  lone  Toller;  Marjean  Nasfel; 
Isa  Law;  Dorothy  Grange;  Helen  Watkins;  Cleora  Bywater;  Violet  Stoney;  Ella  Burt; 
Lois  Purdie;  Lillian  Binnie,  visiting  teacher  message  leader;  Roma  Broun;  Ethel  Ehlert; 
Viola  Royle. 

Not  present  when  the  picture  was  taken  were  Dorothy  Tanner,  Gwen  Evans,  Helen 
Russell,  Mary  Donaldson,  Rosetta  Young,  Mae  Rowan,  Laverna  Shumaker,  Carry  Wads- 
worth,  and  Vivian  Putman. 

Pearl  VanDyke  is  president  of  Weber  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Nina  J.  Langford 


AT  WORK  MEETING,  September  1953 

Front  row  seated,  left  to  right:  Eillen  Roberts;  Verda  Bouchard,  theology  class 
leader;  Lamanda  Ray;  Luella  H.  Byram,  Secretary-Treasurer;  Mattie  G.  Ray,  stake 
theology  leader. 

Second  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Eliza  Rawson;  Cora  Poll,  former  secretary-treas- 
urer, who  served  for  many  years;  Mary  Cook,  former  president;  Lavern  J.  Poll,  Presi- 
dent; Ada  H.  Cornia,  First  Counselor;  Eva  Ray. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Annie  Russell;  Edith  Peek;  Thora  Moore;  Nellie 
M  Staples  work  meeting  leader;  Murnine  Foster;  Rose  Watts;  Fay  H.  Ray,  Second 
Counselor;  Mae  Bambrough;  Stella  Poll;  Ethel  C.  Earl,  hterature  class  leader. 

Erma  V.  Jacobs  is  president  of  South  Ogden  Stake  ReHef  Society. 



:*-v;>.5<p:s?^'«sisrts3»i'-  "<5~?.  - 

Photograph  submitted  by  Thelma  G.  Maloy 



Left  to  right:  Fae  G.  Gordon,  Secretary;  Pearl  H.  Walters;  Beth  G.  Ellsworth; 
Lola  D.  Richardson. 

Twenty-eight  members  were  enrolled  in  this  ward  Relief  Society  in  January  1953. 
The  bazaar  consisted  of  several  beautiful  displays,  including  kitchen  aprons  and  fancy 
aprons,  embroidered  and  crocheted  pillowslips  and  tablecloths,  a  lovely  satin  quilt,  many 
novelty  items,  and  some  decorated  plates. 

Thelma  G.  Maloy  is  president  of  Mount  Graham  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Photograph  submitted  by  Maude  Warren 




Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Ruth  Jewkes,  First  Counselor;  Ora  Jensen,  Presi- 
dent; Florence  Mortensen,  Second  Counselor. 

Maude  Warren  is  president  of  Carbon  Stake  Relief  Society. 

The  Deeper  Melody 

(Continued  from  page  267) 
change  the  subject,  his  heart  aching 
for  the  motherless  Kttle  things.  Per- 
haps a  man  should  deliberately, 
and  coldly,  hunt  a  wife  to  fill  such 
a  hopeless  gap  in  his  family.  Per- 
haps he  was  to  be  blamed  for  con 
sidering  such  fine  points  as  his  own 
emotions  when  his  children  were  in 
such  need.  Perhaps  he  should  try 
to  overcome  his  aversion  to  Miss 
Tate,  for  when  Margaret  was  gone 
what  would  anything  matter?  Yet 
he  could  not  think  of  Miss  Tate 
and  Ellen  in  the  same  thought. 
With  Margaret  it  was  different.  He 
felt  that  Ellen  would  approve  of 
Margaret.  In  the  early  days  of 
their  marriage  they  had  talked  as 
all  young  couples  do. 

''If  I  should  die,"  she  had  said 
then.  "I  want  you  to  marry  again." 

He  had  laughed  too  loudly  at  the 
idea,  because  of  the  premonition 
that  had  darkened  his  heart,  and 
had  gripped  her  to  him. 

"You  won't  die,"  he  had  told  her 
fiercely.  "And  if  you  do,  you  will 
always  be  my  wife." 

Well,  she  was  gone;  but  she  was 
still  his,  and  now,  without  loving 
her  any  the  less,  he  also  loved 

He  was  musing,  Steve  told  him- 
self, as  if  there  was  still  hope  for 
him  with  Margaret,  as  if  his  love 
had  not  been  ill-fated  from  the  start. 
If  he  had  met  her  a  few  months 
earlier— if  he  had  recognized  in- 
stantly what  she  would  come  to 
mean  to  him— if  her  need  of  him 
had  equalled  his  need  of  her  (for 
that  had  always  been  the  missing 
ingredient)— if— if— if  her  wedding 
was  not  a  mere  few  days  away. 






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Robbins  Choral  Collection  1.00 

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Page  275 



Friday  he  worked  through  the 
noon  hour,  and  Miss  Tate  brought 
him  a  roast-beef  sandwich  and  a 
half  pint  of  milk  when  she  returned 
from  her  lunch.  It  tasted  good,  as 
well  as  saving  him  precious  time. 
Of  course  he  told  her  as  much, 
thanking  her  sincerely. 

''Steve,  youVe  looked  so  formid- 
able the  last  few  days  I  didn't  dare 
tell  you  I  have  tickets  for  the 

"You  shouldn't  have  done  that, 
Miss  Tate,"  Steve  said. 

''But  Jascha  Heifitz  is  going  to  be 
guest  artist,  and  I  know  you  won't 
want  to  miss  it." 

"I'm  sorry.  I  can't  go,"  Steve 
told  her.  "I'm  sure  many  others 
would  be  glad  to  share  vour  tick- 

"It  is  that  girl— Miss  Grain- that 
we  met  at  the  theatre,"  observed 
Miss  Tate  quietly.  "You  love  her, 
don't  you,  Mr.  Thorpe?" 

Steve  lifted  surprised  eyes  to 
hers.  "Yes  I  do,  Miss  Tate.  Very 
much."  A  part  of  his  mind  noted 
her  resumption  of  the  use  of  his 
last  name,  and  was  pleased.  "She 
was  Phyllis'  nurse,  you  know." 

Steve  could  see  his  admission  was 
a  blow  to  her,  even  though  she  had 
expected  it.  He  could  see  her  think- 
ing she  had  acted  unwisely,  and 
then  grasped  a  straw  of  hope  with 
a  new  thought. 

"Didn't  she  introduce  that  doc- 
tor as  her  fiance?" 

"Yes,"  admitted  Steve,  thinking 
suddenly  that  this  was  none  of  her 
affair.  "I'm  afraid  it  is  Miss  Grain, 
or  no  one,  with  me.  It  seems  very 
probable  it  will  be  no  one." 

"Oh,"  said  Miss  Tate. 

If  Steve  expected  tears,  as  there 
had  been  once  before,  he  was  mis- 

taken. Miss  Tate  lifted  her  head 
in  a  gallant  gesture.  "My  boy 
friend  is  soon  due  out  of  the  army," 
she  said.  "And  that  is  exactly  how 
I  feel  about  him." 

Steve  knew  she  was  not  telling 
the  truth,  that  she  had  no  "boy 
friend,"  but  in  that  moment  he  felt 
sorry  for  her. 

Later,  when  he  went  through  her 
office  he  noticed  that  her  eyes  were 
red  from  weeping,  and  that  she  was 
typing  with  exceeding  vigor.  She 
turned  to  the  files  quickly  to  hide 
her  face,  pretending  to  search  for 

"Good  night,  Mr.  Thorpe,"  she 
called  after  him,  and  her  voice  was 
light  and  impersonal. 

CATURDAY  he  took  the  children 
to  the  circus,  and  they  had 
everything— pink  popcorn,  balloons, 
the  merry-go-round,  and  finally 
seats  in  the  big  tent  for  the  three- 
ringed  show.  Steve  was  enjoying 
it  doubly,  seeing  it  through  their 
ecstatic  eyes. 

They  had  left  home  in  all  the 
splendor  of  shining  cleanliness,  and 
in  the  beauty  of  their  new  clothes, 
but  their  activities  thus  far  had 
altered  the  picture  somewhat. 
Davey's  hands  were  sticky  from 
popcorn,  Phyllis  had  ice  cream  on 
her  nose  and  chin,  and  Ilene  had 
spilled  her  popsicle  down  her  dress. 
Steve  regarded  these  as  natural  ca- 
lamities, which  a  bath  and  clean 
clothes  would  remedy,  once  they 
were  home,  until  Davey  shouted 
"Other  Mama!"  and  was  gone, 
Ilene  scrambled  after  him  toward 
a  point  above  and  behind  them  on 
the  benches.  Steve,  wiping  Phyllis' 
face  with  his  handkerchief,  twisted 
to  see. 



Of  course  it  was  Margaret,  and 
the  whole  picture  was  instantly 
readable.  Dr.  Harmon  was  with 
her,  and  between  them  sat  a  pale 
little  fellow  with  crutches  and 
braces.  He  was  undoubtedly  still  a 
small  patient  at  the  hospital  who 
had  had  a  rough  time.  Obviously, 
Margaret  had  donated  her  after- 
noon off  and  Dr.  Harmon's  time 
to  showing  him  a  good  time.  It  was 
just  as  evident,  from  the  cold  dis- 
taste on  Dr.  Harmon's  mouth,  that 
it  was  Margaret's  idea.  Steve's  two 
had  thrown  themselves  upon  her 
with  abandon,  and  her  arms  were 
about  them  both,  crumpled  clothes, 
wind-blown  hair,  and  sticky  fingers 

Steve  leaped  up  to  retrieve  them, 
but  Margaret  shook  her  head  vigor- 
ously. Steve  noticed  the  white  line 
of  fury  about  Dr.  Harmon's  mouth, 
and  settled  back  wickedly  to  enjoy 
himself.  For  a  man  who  did  not 
seem  to  like  children,  Dr.  Harmon 
was  certainly  in  a  distressing  predica- 

OHYLLIS  had  seen  Margaret, 
however,  and  stretched  her  arms 
toward  her.  Margaret  moved  the 
children,  making  room  for  Phyllis 
on  her  lap,  and  motioned  Steve  to 
bring  her.  He  complied  gleefully, 
watching  Dr.  Harmon  all  the  while. 
This  last  was  too  much  for  that  dig- 
nified gentleman.  He  rose,  pale 
with  anger. 

"Margaret,  let's  get  out  of  here." 
He  didn't  bother  to  recognize 
Steve,  or  to  be  civil,  but  strode  out, 
carrying  the  little  boy.  There  was 
nothing  for  Margaret  to  do  but 
follow.  Steve's  heart  smote  him, 
and  his  mirth  turned  to  bitterness. 






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in  Salt  Lake  City 

seeing  the  disappointed  look  on  the 
httle  crippled  boy's  face. 

He  and  the  children  stayed,  but 
Steve  blamed  himself  for  spoiling 
Margaret's  time.  He  went  through 
all  the  motions  for  the  sake  of  the 
children,  but  for  him  the  day  had 
lost  its  glory.  Above  his  chagrin  at 
having  let  his  children  embarrass 
Margaret  in  public,  v^as  the  fact 
that  he  himself  had  precipitated 
what  would  obviously  end  in  un- 

After  the  circus-weary  children 
were  bathed  and  in  bed  that  night 
he  sat  in  the  silent  semi-darkness 
of  the  living  room  and  touched 
again  the  depths  of  despair.  It  was 
literally  the  end  of  what  had  been 
a  heavenly  interlude  in  the  lives  of 
himself  and  his  children. 

Actually,  Mrs.  Grain's  bags  were 
packed  and   standing  in  the  hall. 



Relief  Society  Women 




Claas  No.  1  is  now  under  way ;  Class  No.  2 
is  being  organized ;  and  Class  No.  3  is  scheduled 
for  the  future.  So  get  together  a  group  of 
your  friends  and  enroll  in  one  of  these  special 
typing  classes  designed  to  help  you  keep 
genealogy  records,  personal  papers,  and  any 
other  typewriting  you  might  need  to  do. 
Evening  classes. 

You  are  always  cordially  welcome  at  .  .  . 



70  North  Main  —  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

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Steve  could  see  them  from  where 
he  sat,  and  they  were  a  dark  blot 
on  his  consciousness.  Mrs.  Grain 
and  Margaret  were  to  be  the  guests 
of  Dr.  Harmon's  friend,  Dr.  Han- 
son, where  the  reception  was  to  be 
held.  In  the  next  week  there  would 
be  a  round  of  teas  and  parties. 
In  the  morning  Mrs.  Grain  would 
be  gone;  tonight  was  Margaret's  last 
duty  at  the  hospital. 

In  an  agony  of  despair  and  long- 
ing Steve  could  visualize  her  slen- 
der figure  moving  along  the  halls  as 
the  clock  crept  around  past  nine, 
beyond  ten,  to  eleven.  She  would 
be  off  now,  riding  home  with  Dr. 
Harmon.  Steve  sat  in  the  loneli- 
ness of  his  sleeping  household 
while  his  mind  went  seeking  her 
across  town,  his  heart  declaring  his 
love  for  her  in  a  worldless  outpour- 
ing, and  his  mind  compelling  her 
to  hear  its  message  and  to  come  to 
him.  So  intense  were  his  feelings 
that  the  telephone  bell,  pealing  out 
in  the  midnight  quiet  did  not  startle 
him,  but  was  an  answer  to  his  com- 
mand. He  knew  before  he  lifted 
the  receiver  that  it  was  Margaret. 

''Steve!"  she  said  and  there  was 
pent  up  emotion  in  her  cry. 

''Margaret!  Margaret,  darling," 
Steve  answered  in  kind,  and  in  the 
long  silence  which  followed:  "Dear- 
est, what  is  it?  What  has  hap- 

"Steve,  I'm  glad  you,  not  Mother 
answered.  I've  done  a  most  terrible 
thing.  Nobody,  not  even  she— no- 
body in  this  world  will  understand, 
nobody  but  you.  Steve,  I  need 

"Hold  on,  sweetheart.  I'll  be  with 
you  in  five  minutes,"  cried  Steve, 
and  raced  for  his  car. 

{To  be  concluded) 




KENMORE  Finest 
Rotary  Needs  No  Oiling 

Nylon  and  Oilite  bearing  never  need  oilingl 

Aluminum  frame  for  lightweightl 

Dial   type   upper   thread   tension.     Easy   to 

adjust,  to  set. 

Hinged  presser  foot  glides  over  pins  and 


ForA^ard,  reverse  control  .  .  .  number  stitch 


Adjustable  presser  bar  knob. 

Silent  uieturn 

Blanche  Kendall  McKey 

I  have  come  back. 

I,  through  our  longing, 

Have  pierced  the  strange  wicket. 

I  have  come  back. 

Not  only  to  see  you,  Beloved; 

Not  only  to  waken  your  heart 

To  the  springtime; 

But  to  be  for  a  day  what  I  was. 

Oh,  Beloved, 

When  you  knew  I  was  here! 

UJogv^ood  cJime 

Mary  Gustafson 

My  feet  would  walk  the  woodland 

Where  dogtooth  violets  bloom, 

With  trillium  and  fairy  bell 

And  wild  rose  for  a  loom 

On  which  to  weave  a  stretch  of  dreams 

Across  a  crowded  day, 

To  the  melody  of  lark  and  thrush  .  .  . 

For  memorv's  resume. 


Mason  6l  Hamlin 

The  Stradivari  of  Pianos 


The  Piano  of  the  Metropolitan  Opera 


Finest  Toned  Spinet  Piano  Built 


Finest  Low  Priced  Piano  Built 
All  Obtainable  At 

Beesley  Music  Co. 

Pioneer  Piano  People 
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Three  1954  Conducted 


Sails  from  Los  Angeles  May  24 


Leaves  Salt  Lake  City  July  21 


Leaves  Salt  Lake  City  August  6 

The  HISTORIC  TRAIN  includes: 
Places  of  Interest  In  Church  History, 
the  Pageant  at  the  Hill  Cumorah,  and 
many  large  eastern  cities. 

For  complete  details  write  or  phone: 


966  E.  So.  Temple — ^Telephone  4-2017 
Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

Page  279 

Qjrom   I  Lear  and  cfar 

Addressed  to  Elder  Albert  R.  Bowen, 
writer  of  social  science  lessons. 

May  we  extend  our  congratulations  on 
the  course  of  study  on  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States  you  have  outlined 
for  the  Relief  Society  of  the  Church  of 
Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints,  which 
is  currently  in  progress.  We  beHeve  your 
program  to  be  outstanding,  both  in  its 
historical  background,  upon  which  to  base 
present-day  interpretations,  and  for  the 
service  it  will  render  to  the  members,  and 
through  them  their  families  and  com- 
munities, by  affording  a  better  under- 
standing and  evaluation  of  that  docu- 
ment which  is  the  practical  safeguard  of 
our  future. 

— Donald  P.  Bean 

Director,  Stanford  University  Press 
Stanford,  California 

I  truly  enjoy  The  Reliei  Society  Mag- 
azine each  month  and  I  look  forward  to 
each  new  copy. 

May  I  improve  with  each  new  copy 

Of  the  Magazine  I  read; 
May  I  feast  upon  every  word 
For  all  its  worth  and  need. 
— Thelma  Buell 
Marienthal,  Kansas 

I  wish  to  commend  Alice  Morrey  Bailey 
for  the  very  good  writing  in  her  serial 
'The  Deeper  Melody"  (October  1953- 
May  1954),  3"^  ^^^^  Dorothy  Clapp  Rob- 
inson for  the  beautifully  worked  out  story 
"One  Wild  Rose,"  the  prize-winning 
story  in  the  Relief  Society  Short  Story 
Contest  (published  in  January  1954). 
The  prize-winning  poems  were  also  worth- 
while and  lovely.  Thank  you  for  a  whole- 
some, high-quality  Magazine. 

— Katherine  F.  Larsen 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

I  enjoyed  the  winging  buoyancy  of  the 
first  prize  poem  "Wings  Over  the  West" 
in  the  January  1954  issue  of  the  Magazine, 
by  Lizabeth  Wall  Madsen. 
— Ida  Isaacson 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

Being  among  the  first  Relief  Society 
members  to  subscribe  for  the  Magazine, 
I  enjoy  everything  in  it.  It  has  always 
been  an  inspiration  to  me.  I  remember 
the  Woman's  Exponent.  We  had  it  in 
our  home.  Today  it  thrills  me  to  read 
of  the  many  women  in  foreign  countries 
and  in  the  isles  of  the  sea — how  they 
wait  and  long  for  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine  to  reach  them. 

Here  are  a  few  lines  I  wrote  in  honor 
of  the  visiting  teachers: 

At  the  very  second  meeting 

The  president-elect  did  call 

Sixteen  women  as  a  Necessity  Committee 

To  visit  the  sick,  the  poor,  and  all. 

Blessed  were  the  visiting  teachers 

Of  that  time  so  long  ago  .... 

Blessed  be  the  visiting  teachers  of  today — 

Their  calling  may  not  be  necessity, 

But  their  duty  is  supreme. 

— Anna  S.  D.  Johnson 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

I  always  enjoy  our  wonderful  Magazine, 
The  fiction  is  always  so  in  keeping  with 
the  other  contents  of  the  Magazine  .  .  . 
I  think  Sister  Mary  Ek  Knowles  (Feb- 
ruary 1954,  page  87)  expressed  such  a 
beautiful  thought  in  her  little  sketch — 
''Writing  is  my  hobby,  my  husband  and 
children  my  profession."  I  would  like  to 
write  and  ask  her  just  how — just  when — 
she  finds  time  for  writing,  before  her  chil- 
dren get  up  in  the  morning  or  before  they 
are  tucked  in  at  night?  I  have  two  boys, 
ages  six  and  two  .  .  .  but  it  seems  they 
keep  me  on  the  go  every  waking  moment. 

— Florence  D.  Anderson 
Henderson,  Nevada 

I  do  enjoy  the  Magazine  so  much  and 
am  glad  that  you  give  so  much  space  to 
helpful  articles  and  to  poetry.  I  am  a 
member  of  Pierian  Club  of  the  Chaparrel 
Poets  of  California,  and  other  members  of 
the  group  also  enjoy  the  Magazine. 
— Mrs.  Maude  Rubin 
Santa  Ana,  California 

Page  280 


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A  Man's  Idea  of  a 

They'll  all  come  running  for  this  hearty  dish! 
These  tempting  cube  steaks  taste  better — and  go 
farther  —  because  they're  prepared  with  Sego 
Milk.  Double-rich  Sego  Milk  adds  extra  flavor 
and  smoothness  to  so  many  dishes  —  and  saves 
money,  too,  because  it  costs  less 
than  ordinary  milk. 


Directions  Ingredients  for  4 

Buy 4  (1   lb.)  CUBE  STEAKS 

%  cup,  fine,  dry 
Roll  steaks  in  a  BREAD   CRUMBS 

mixture  of 1   teasp.   SALT 

Vs  teasp.   PEPPER 

Dip  the  steaks  into V2  cup  SEGO  Evaporated  Milk 

Roll  again  in  crumbs.  Brown  slowly,  5  min.  on  each  side, 
in  Vs-inch  hot  fat.  Cover  tightly;  cook  very  slowly  10 
min.   or   until   tender.    Remove   to   warm   platter.    Keep   hot. 

Add  to  fat  in  skillet  and       .,  ..      .  ^^,,^., 

cook  slowly  5  minutes  ....'/4  cup  fmely  cut  ONION 

Drain  and  save  2  cups   (1-lb.  can) 

the  juice  from canned  TOMATOES 

Blend   into  mixture  ?  Tablesp     FLOUR 

in  skillet 1    'easp.   SALT 

Vs  teasp.   PEPPER 

Stir  in  V2  cup  of  the  tomato  juice. 

Cook  and  stir  over  low  heat  until  mixture  is  thick,,  about 
2   minutes. 

Stir  in  tomatoes  2  cups  canned,   whole  kernel 

and  drained CORN    (lib.   can) 

Heat   until   steaming   hot.   Put  corn   mixture   around   steaks. 


Monthly  Publication  of  the  Relief   Society  of   The  Church   of  Jesus   Christ  of   Latter-day    Saints 

Belle  S.  Spafford  ------  President 

Marianne   C.   Sharp  -  .  .  .  _  first  Counselor 

Velma  N.  Simonsen  -  .  -  .  .       Second  Counselor 

Margaret  C.   Pickering     -----  Secretary-Treasurer 

^^'"y  g.  ludd  Even  W.  Peterson  Christine  H.  Robinson        Charlotte  A.  Larsen 

v^^.u  o'  M?^^  Leone  O.  Jacobs  Alberta  H.  Christensen      Edith  P.  Backman 

hdith  S.  Elliott  Mary  J.  Wilson  Mildred  B.  Eyring  Winniefred  S. 

norence  J.  Madsen  Louise  W.  Madsen  Helen  W.  Anderson  Manwaring 

Leone  G^ayton  Aleine  M.  Young  Gladys  S.  Boyer  Elna  P.  Haymond 

Blanche  B.  Stoddard  Josie  B.  Bay 


Editor     --            -            -            -            -            .            .            -            .            _  Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Associate  Editor           -----___.  Vesta  P.  Crawford 

General  Manager        ---------  Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  41  MAY  1954  NO.  5 


Mother's  Influence  Edith  Price  Backman  284 

A  Mother's  Prayer  for  Her  Son  Wilma  B.  Bunker  286 

The  Birth  of  a  Heritage  —  The  Gospel  in  England  Elsie  Scott  287 

Coronation Roxana  Farnsworth  Hase  290 

Miracles  and  Mother  Eileen   Gibbons  298 

"Say  It  With  Flowers"  Norma  W.  South  304 

Anniversary  Souvenirs  Mabel  Law  Atkinson  311 

With  No  Regrets Myrtle   M.   Dean  323 

Thou  Shalt  Never  Cease  to  Grow  Caroline  Eyring  Miner  326 

"Magazine"  Money  Banks   _..  327 


Lest  She  Forget  „ Hazel  K.   Todd  291 

Things  Will  Be  Different Virginia  M.   Kammeyer  306 

The  Right  Decision!  Frances  C.  Yost  312 

The  Deeper  Melody  —  Chapter  8  —  Conclusion  Alice  Morrey  Bailey  318 


Sixty  Years  Ago  300 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.   Cannon  301 

Editorial:  Portrait  of  Mother  Vesta   P.   Crawford  302 

New  Serial,   "The  Falling  Shackles,"  to  Begin  in  June  303 

"Magazine"  Subscriptions  for  1953 Marianne  C.  Sharp  328 

The  "Magazine"  Honor  Roll  for  1953 332 

Notes  From  the  Field:    Relief  Society  Activities  Margaret  C.  Pickering  336 

From  Near  and  Far  344 


Preserving  Metal  Planters  Elizabeth  Williamson  305 

Launder  That  White  Shirt  Yourself  Ruth  K.  Kent  310 

Sina  Mortensen  —  Woman  of  Many  Hobbies 317 


Maytime  in  the  Valley  —  Frontispiece  Beatrice  K.   Ekman  283 

Faith  Mary  Ellen  B.  Workman  296 

Deserted  Garden  Matia  McClelland  Burk  297 

To  David  Marjorie  Foote  303 

Morning  Glories  Evelyn  Fjeldsted  309 

Mother  Love Hannah  C.   Ashby  315 

"So  Shall  We  Reap"  Maryhale   Woolsey  316 

Come  Gently,  Sp^-ing  Christie  Lund  Coles  317 

Fallen  Giant   Josephine   J.    Harvey  325 

Motherhood  Ivinetta  R.    Oliver  325 

Vacation  Just  Beyond  Mary  Gustafson  326 

For  Wood  Violets .'. Ethel  Jacobson  341 

Bright  Hour  Grace   Sayre  342 

The  Olden  Days  and  the  New Camilla  Alexander  343 


Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah,  Phone  4-2511;  Sub- 
scriptions 246;  Editorial  Dept.  245.  Subscription  Price:  $1.50  a  year;  foreign,  $2.00  a  year; 
payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
back  numbers  can  be  supplied.  Renew  promptly  so  that  no  copies  will  be  missed.  Report  change 
of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Acceptance  for  mailing  at  special  rate  of  postage  provided  for  in 
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The  Magazine  is  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 


1 1  iayitime  in  the    valley 

Beatrice  K.  Elcman 

The  sun  has  climbed  the  morning  stair 

And  myriad  insects  strum  the  air; 

Out  of  the  meadow  lark's  smooth  throat 

Melodic  strains  of  rapture  float 

Across  the  valley's  pulsing  breast. 

From  mountains  east  to  mountains  west, 

The  emerald  robe  of  spring  is  laid, 

Dappled  with  sunlight  and  cloud  shade. 

The  sego-lily  chalice  spills 

Gold  pollen  on  the  kneeling  hills; 

From  rock-walled  canyons,  clear  streams  flow 

To  the  lush  pasture  lands  below, 

Where  spiders  weave  a  silver  loom 

On  wild  rose  hedges,  pink  with  bloom; 

And  blossomed  plum  adds  nuances  of  grace 

With  airy  petals  of  white  lace. 

The  Cover:  Channel  Drive,  Santa  Barbara,  California 

Photograph  by  Josef  Muench 
Frontispiece:  White  Carnations,  Photograph  by  Ward  Linton 
Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

Mother's  Influence 

Edith  Price  Bdckurdn 
Member,  General  Board  of  Relief  Society 

Her  children  rise  np,  and  call  her  blessed;  her  husband  also,  and  he  praiseth  her 
(Proverbs  31  izS). 

WE  are  commanclccl  to: 
Honour  thy  father  and  thy  moth- 
er, as  the'  Lord  thy  God  hath 
commanded  thee;  that  thy  days  may  be 
prolonged,  and  that  it  may  go  well  with 
thee,  in  the  land  which  the  Lord  thy  God 
giveth  thee  (Deut.  5:16). 

It  is  gratifying  that  our  nation 
has  sought  to  encourage  and  culti- 
vate e\'ery  sentiment  which  binds 
men  and  women  to  the  home  and 
which  exalts  motherhood. 

There  cannot  be  homes  without 
mothers,  for  they  are  the  homemak- 
ers;  and  without  homes  the  nation 
cannot  long  endure. 

A  man's  success  and  triumphs 
mean  more  to  his  mother  than  to 
himself.  She  never  loses  faith  in 
him;  she  never  forgets  him;  she  nev- 
er forsakes  him.  Her  implicit  faith 
in  him  is  one  of  the  beautiful  things 
in  life  and  a  great  influence  in  the 
world.  Joseph  Smith  said,  ''The 
love  of  a  true  mother  comes  nearer 
being  like  the  love  of  God  than 
any  other  kind  of  love." 

Mothers  had  a  great  influence  in 
establishing  The  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  this  dispensation.  They 
experienced  the  hardships,  persecu- 
tions, and  privations  incident  to 
pioneer  life.  Because  of  their  true 
testimony  of  the  divinity  of  Jesus 
Christ,  they  were  able  to  brave  the 
many  hardships  which  they  en- 
countered. From  the  lives  of  these 
great  women  may  we  learn  to  sac- 
rifice  more,   to   give   more   of   our 

Page  284 

real  sehcs  to  the  work  of  God,  to 
instill  in  our  children  an  abiding 
testimonv,  and  a  desire  to  serve  him 
and  keep  his  commandments. 

Many  widows'  sons  have  achieved 
noblv  in  the  earth,  and  have  at- 
tributed  their  success  to  the  teach- 
ings and  influence  of  their  mothers. 
President  Ileber  J.  Grant  gave  us 
this  burning  testimony  of  what  his 
mother  meant  to  him: 

I  live  today  as  one  whose  mother  was 
all  to  me.  She  set  an  example  of  integrity, 
of  devotion  and  love,,  and  of  determina- 
tion and  honor  second  to  none.  Her  life 
was  a  sermon  that  rings  through  my  soul 
to  this  day.  One  of  the  main  reasons  I 
am  President  of  the  Church  today  is  that 
I  have  followed  the  advice  and  counsel 
and  the  burning  testimony  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  which  came  to  me  from  my 

During  the  troubled  war  days  of 
George  Washington,  Mary  Ball 
Washington,  mother  of  the  First 
President  of  the  United  States,  in 
order  to  keep  her  faith  strong  would 
often  sav,  ''I'he  mothers  and  wives 
of  bra\'e  men  must  be  brave  wom- 
en." She  also  said,  ''George  is  apt 
to  succeed  in  anything  he  under- 
takes. He  was  always  a  good  boy." 
This  is  an  example  of  the  implicit 
faith  and  confidence  a  mother  has 
in  her  children. 

Nancy  Hanks,  mother  of  Lincoln, 
was  a  woman  of  simplicity  and 
strength,  living  in  the  poorest  kind 
of  shack  in  the  wilderness  of  Ken- 
tucky.   Even  though  she  may  have 



felt  the  pinch  of  poverty,  she  did 
her  duty  toward  this  boy  tenderly. 
As  she  spoke  some  of  her  last  words 
to  her  nine-year-old  son,  this  was 
her  plea,  her  hope,  "Be  somebody, 
Abe."  His  kind,ness,  humor,  hu- 
mility, and  his  hatred  of  slavery 
came  from  his  mother.  His  love  and 
affection  for  her  were  expressed  in 
the  statement  he  made  saying,  "All 
that  I  am  or  all  that  I  ever  hope  to 
be  I  owe  to  my  angel  mother." 

TN  our  own  Book  of  Mormon, 
when  the  Nephites  and  the 
Lamanites  were  warring  among 
themsehes,  they  were  given  certain 
promises  if  they  would  keep  the 
commandments  of  God,  and  told 
if  they  did  not,  destruction  would 
follow.  Then  we  have  the  marvel- 
ous record  of  two  thousand  Laman- 
ite  bovs— just  boys— who  joined  the 
army  of  the  Nephites  in  order  to 
help  preserve  themselves  and  their 
families.  But  they  had  been  taught 
by  their  mothers  that  God  would 
protect  them  if  they  would  do  their 

These  two  thousand  boys,  part  of 
the  army  of  the  Nephites,  went  in- 
to battle  repeatedly,  and  the  last 
struggle  was  so  terrible  that,  we  are 
told,  all  were  wounded.  When 
Helaman,  their  captain,  saw  their 
enemies  dri\'en  away  he  was  anxious 
for  his  young  charges  (he  called 
them  striplings,  just  boys)  and  he 
went  among  the  dead  and  gathered 
them  to  find  out  how  many  were 
living.  He  found  e\'eryone  of  them 
alive,  although  many  had  fainted 
from  the  loss  of  blood. 

When  Helaman,  who  was  amazed 
at  their  miraculous  preservation, 
questioned     them     concerning     it, 

their  response  was  one  of  the  great- 
est compliments  to  motherhood  to 
be  found  anywhere:  ".  .  .  We  do 
not  doubt  our  mothers  knew  it" 
(Alma  56:48). 

They  believed  what  their  mothers 
taught  them.  They  had  faith  in 
God.  They  were  preserved,  and 
they  helped  save  their  homes  and 
families  from  destruction. 

Some  mothers  have  fallen  below 
these  standards,  and  some  have  ex- 
erted but  little  influence  in  the 
world.  There  are  many  women, 
who  because  of  riches  or  other  in- 
fluences, have  become  idle,  selfish, 
and  miserable.  They  are  not  the 
mothers  who  inspire  their  children 
to  become  the  leaders  of  men;  but 
the  overwhelming  majority  of  moth- 
ers are  brave,  pure,  sincere,  and  self- 

The  observance  of  Mother's  Day 
has  created  an  opportunity  to  ex- 
press the  love  and  gratitude  we  feel 
to\^ard  our  mothers.  Many  beauti- 
ful tributes  and  honors  are  heaped 
upon  us  that  day.  Have  we  magni- 
fied our  greatest  of  all  callings, 
motherhood?  Are  we,  as  mothers 
in  Zion,  worthy  of  all  these  beauti- 
ful tributes?  Are  we  living  up  to 
our  obligations  as  mothers  in  The 
Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter- 
day  Saints  to  teach  our  children  the 
truths  of  the  gospel,  and  to  be  liv- 
ing examples  of  its  principles? 

We  read  in  Proverbs  22:6: 

Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should 
go:  and  uhen  he  is  old,  he  will  not  de- 
part from  it. 

If  we  teach  our  children  to  honor 
the  Priesthood,  the  sanctity  of 
eternal  marriage,  to  keep  the  Sab- 
bath day  holy,  to  observe  the  law 



of  tithing,  to  hold  family  prayer,  to 
be  honest,  truthful,  and  virtuous,  to 
have  love  in  their  hearts  for  one  an- 
other and  for  their  Heavenly  Father, 
we  know  they  will  not  depart  from 
these  teachings.  Every  day  will  be 
Mother's  Day,  and  our  children  will 
grow  and  develop  to  be  useful  men 
and  women,  upholding  the  highest 
ideals  and  principles  of  the  gospel. 

A  report  was  given  in  a  recent 
stake  conference  that  only  one  half 
of  the  missionaries  interviewed  in 
that  stake  to  go  on  missions  for  the 
Church,  reported  family  prayers 
were  being  held  in  their  homes. 
Think  what  a  priceless  opportunity 
the  parents  of  these  young  men  are 
losing  by  not  having  family  prayers, 

where  the  bonds  of  love,  unity,  and 
security  could  be  established  per- 
manently in  the  home. 

President  David  O.  McKay  said: 

One  of  the  greatest  needs  in  the  world 
today  is  intelligent,  conscientious  mother- 
hood. It  is  to  the  home  we  must  look 
for  the  inculcation  of  the  fundamental 
virtues  which  contribute  to  human  wel- 
fare and  happiness.  Motherhood  is  the 
greatest  potential  influence  either  for  good 
or  ill  in  human  life. 

May  we  as  mothers  be  that  po- 
tential influence  for  good  in  our 
families  and  realize  the  highest  am- 
bition of  true  mothers,  that  of  rear- 
ing families  of  noble,  successful, 
righteous  children,  who  will  arise 
up  and  call  us  blessed. 




J/l    ifiothers  irra^er  for  uier  Son 

WiJma  B.  Bunker 

P>UILD  me  a  son,  O  Lord,  wise  enough  to  know  the  right  and  brave  enough  to  do  it. 
'-^  May  he  be  as  strong  in  defeat  as  in  victory.  Rear  him,  I  pray,  not  in  the  ways 
of  ease  and  comfort,  but  under  the  stress  of  difficulties  and  challenges.  Give  him  the 
strength  to  meet  these  challenges  with  courage  and  resolution. 

May  his  daily  life  be  clean  and  triumphant,  his  goal  high  and  worthy.  Teach  him 
that  mastery  of  self  always  precedes  mastery  of  others. 

Build  me  a  son  who  will  have  compassion  for  those  who  have  failed  and  forgiveness 
for  those  who  have  hurt  him.  Help  him  to  realize  that  true  happiness  comes  from  serv- 
ice to  others — to  forget  oneself  in  a  great  and  good  cause. 

And  after  all  these  are  his,  add,  I  pray,  enough  of  a  sense  of  humor  so  that  he 
will  not  take  himself  too  seriously;  enough  optimism  so  that  those  around  him  are 
lifted  up;  and  enough  humility  so  that  he  will  never  cease  to  be  modest,  humble,  and 

And  help  him,  O  Lord,  to  remember  that  thou  art  ever  present  if  he  will  but  seek 
thee,  I  pray. 

The  Birth  of  a  Heritage  —  The 
Gospel  in  England 

Elsie  Scott 


EMBERS  of  the  Church  of 
Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day 
Saints  who  visit  Preston, 
England,  whether  they  be  from  oth- 
er towns  in  Great  Britain  or  from 
America,  almost  invariably  express 
the  pleasure  and  interest  they  feel 
in  being  privileged  to  visit  this  his- 
toric town  and  to  see  the  places 
which  played  such  a  vital  part  in 
the  propagation  of  the  gospel  in 
this  land. 

It  was  about  four  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  22d  of  July  1837  ^^^^ 
Heber  C.  Kimball,  Willard  Rich- 
ards, Orson  Hyde,  and  Joseph 
Fielding,  with  three  brethren  from 
Canada,  John  Goodson,  Isaac  Rus- 
sell, and  John  Snyder,  arrived  in 
Preston.  They  had  landed  in 
Liverpool,  but  lingered  there  only 
long  enough  to  seek  guidance  from 
the  Lord,  and  in  answer  to  their 
prayers  were  directed  to  continue 
their  journey  to  Preston,  another 
thirty  miles  —  a  much  longer  jour- 
ney then  than  it  is  today. 

Elections,  commanded  by  the 
new  Queen  Victoria,  were  taking 
place  with  much  celebration  as 
these  weary  men,  strangers  in  a 
strange  land,  entered  the  town  of 
Preston.  They  were  heartened  by 
the  message  on  a  banner  unfurled, 
almost  above  their  heads,  which 
stated  in  gilt  letters  'Truth  Will 
Prevail."  An  omen?  A  message 
to  the  messengers?  Truth  did  in- 
deed prevail. 

It  was  opportune  that  one  of  the 

missionaries,  Joseph  Fielding,  had 
a  brother  in  Preston,  a  minister, 
and  while  Joseph  went  to  visit  with 
his  brother,  the  other  brethren 
found  lodging  in  Wilfred  Street, 
but  visited  with  the  Rev.  James 
Fielding  on  the  evening  of  arrival 
where  they  discussed  the  restora- 
tion of  the  gospel.  An  invitation 
to  attend  the  Vaux  Hall  chapel  next 
day  was  speedily  accepted,  as  was 
the  later  invitation  to  address  the 
congregation.  This  was  a  direct 
answer  to  the  prayer  of  Heber  C. 
Kimball  that  the  Lord  would  open 
the  way  for  them  to  preach. 

Viewing  the  sadly  forsaken,  di- 
lapidated chapel  today,  with  its 
rows  of  empty  seats,  it  is  difficult 
to  imagine  the  large  congregation 
that  gathered  on  that  Sabbath  day 
to  hear  these  strange  men  who 
spoke  of  angels  again  visiting  the 
earth,  restoring  the  gospel  in  all  its 
truth  to  men. 

Of  that  first  public  meeting  to 
be  held  in  Great  Britain  on  the 
23d  of  July  1837,  Elder  Kimball  has 
this  to  say: 

I  declared  that  an  angel  had  visited  the 
earth  and  committed  the  everlasting  Gos- 
pel to  man;  called  their  attention  to  the 
first  principles  of  the  Gospel;  and  gave 
them  a  brief  history  of  the  work  which 
the  Lord  had  commenced  on  the  earth; 
after  which  Elder  Hyde  bore  testimony 
to  the  same,  which  was  received  by  many 
with  whom  I  afterwards  conversed;  they 
cried,  "Glory  to  God,"  and  rejoiced  that 
the  Lord  had  sent  His  servants  unto 
them.  Thus  was  the  key  turned  and 
the   Gospel    dispensation   opened   on    the 

Page  287 



first  Sabbath  after  landing  in  England 
(Whitney,  Orson  P.:  Life  oi  Hehei  C. 
KimbaU,  page  125). 

npHAT  the  field  was  white  and 
ready  to  harvest  is  proved  by 
the  way  the  people  of  Preston  ac- 
cepted the  message  and  flocked  to 
hear  more  of  the  glorious  truths. 
The  Rev.  James  Fielding,  finding 
his  congregation,  and  with  them  his 
livehhood,  leaving,  closed  the  chap- 
el doors  to  the  missionaries,  but  the 
Lord's  work  could  not  be  impeded, 
and  many  of  the  people  invited  the 
elders  to  preach  in  their  homes.  So 
great  was  their  success  that  several 
people  were  anxious  to  be  baptized 
at  the  end  of  the  elders'  first  week 
in  England. 

No  person  who  reads  the  Bible 
and  believes  can  doubt  the  existence 

of  evil  spirits,  and  it  was  in  the 
room  where  the  elders  lodged  in 
Wilfred  Street,  the  encounter  with 
the  hosts  of  evil  occurred,  on  the 
morning  of  the  day  on  which  the 
baptisms  were  to  be  performed, 
Sunday,  30th  July,  1837. 

Enraged,  no  doubt,  at  the  suc- 
cess the  elders  were  having  in  guid- 
ing the  people  in  the  truth,  the 
forces  of  evil  made  a  determined 
effort  to  destroy  the  lives  and  plans 
of  the  missionaries.  Heber  C. 
Kimball  recounts: 

About  daybreak  Elder  Isaac  Russell 
\^'ho  slept  with  Elder  Riehards  in  Wil- 
fred Street,  eame  up  to  the  third  story, 
where  Elder  Hyde  and  myself  were  sleep- 
ing, and  ealled  out,  "Brother  Kimball,  I 
want  you  should  get  up  and  pray  for  me 
that  I  may  be  delivered  from  the  evil 
spirits  that  are  tormenting  me  to  sueh  a 

Courtesy  Church  Historian's  Office 





degree  that  I  feel  I  cannot  live  long  un- 
less I  obtain  relief  (Whitney,  Orson  F.: 
Life  of  Hehei  C.  KimhnU,  page  129). 

The  elders  arose  and  laid  their 
hands  on  the  tormented  man,  Elder 
Kimball  being  mouth,  and  prayed 
to  the  Lord,  and  rebuked  the  devil, 
but  Elder  Kimball  himself  was 
struck  by  some  unseen  power  and 
fell  senseless  on  the  floor.  When 
he  recovered,  they  continued  to 
pray,  and  a  vision  was  opened  to 
the  minds  of  these  great  men.  They 
saw  legions  of  evil  spirits  coming 
towards  them  like  armies  rushing  to 
battle,  angry  and  desperate.  Is  it 
to  be  wondered  at  that  Elder 
Kimball  stated  that  he  could  nexer 
look  back  on  that  scene  without 
feelings  of  horror?  Yet  by  it,  hor- 
rifving  though  it  was,  they  learned 
the  great  power  of  the  opposing 
forces  and  the  Lord  did  not  forsake 

'T^HOSE  earlv  missionaries  had  un- 
daunted faith;  they  had  a  strong 
testimony    of   the    divinity   of   the 
work  they  were  called  to  do;  and 

not  all  the  power  of  hell  could  turn 
them  from  their  purpose.  Indeed, 
it  is  likely  that  their  vision  strength- 
ened their  testimonies  and  their  de- 
termination to  go  forward  and 
spread  the  gospel  to  all  who  would 
hear  it. 

And  so  the  time  set  for  the  bap- 
tisms found  the  elders  on  the  banks 
of  the  River  Ribble,  which  runs 
through  Preston.  They  were  not 
alone,  however.  Great  interest  had 
been  aroused  in  the  minds  of  the 
people.  Baptizing  as  practiced  by 
this  strange  new  Church  was  some- 
thing unheard  of,  and  it  is  recorded 
that  between  seven  and  nine  thou- 
sand people  gathered  to  witness  the 
baptisms  of  these  first  nine  converts. 
There  is  a  story  told  about  the  first 
woman  in  England  to  enter  the 
waters  of  baptism.  She  was  Ann 
Elizabeth  Walmsley,  who  is  said  to 
ha\'e  been  in  the  last  stages  of 
tuberculosis,  and  had  been  warned 
by  her  doctor  that  to  enter  the  cold 
waters  of  the  ri\'er  would  be  fatal 
for  her.  Her  faith  was  strong,  how- 
ever, and  she  was  carried  to  the  riv- 
erside and  was  baptized. 



What  stories  this  picturesque 
river  could  tell  if  it  were  able  to 
speak!  But  surely  none  would  be 
more  inspiring  than  the  events  of 
that  Sabbath.  Only  on  one  other 
such  occasion  has  an  event  at- 
tracted people  in  their  thousands, 
and  that  was  the  visit  of  President 

Heber  J.  Grant,  who  unveiled  the 
plaque  on  the  27th  of  July  1937, 
commemmorating  those  first  bap- 
tisms a  century  before.  Preston 
Branch  holds  a  firm  place  in  the 
British  Mission,  and  proud  are  the 
Preston  saints  of  their  heritage  and 
their  lovely  new  chapel. 





Roxaiia  F^Tnswoith  Hase 

/^UT  of  doors  Spring  stretched  her  graceful,  fragrant  fingers  almost  across  the  peb- 
^^  bled  walk  leading  up  to  the  white  house.  It  was  as  though  she  wished  that  she 
might  venture  clear  inside.  Yet,  a  bit  of  her  glory  was  there,  for  the  second  daughter 
had  gathered  enough  lovely  white  blossoms  to  fill  the  blue  vase  on  the  table  in  the 
room.  She  had  taken  them  in  quietly,  and  no  one  had  bade  her  stay.  Perhaps  they 
thought  her  too  young. 

The  room  was  hushed,  as  though  church  might  be  about  to  begin.  Yet,  this  was 
not  a  church,  but  a  small,  clean  room.  The  people  there  were  assembled  for  a  par- 
ticular purpose.  Each  one  was  busy  with  his  or  her  own  thoughts  and  tasks.  This 
was  an  eventful  day. 

The  world  at  large  had  never  even  heard  of  the  woman  who  was  soon  to  be 
crowned  a  queen  there.  She  was  young  and  beautiful,  with  a  certain  radiance  of 
countenance  hard  to  describe.  Her  coronation  was  not  a  sudden,  spur  of  the  moment 
thing,  as  though  someone  had  abdicated.  It  had  been  in  preparation  for  almost  a 
year.    The  principals  had  been  well  instructed  as  to  what  to  expect  and  do. 

The  preparations,  while  adequate,  were  by  no  means  elaborate.  The  queen's  gown 
was  of  snowy  white  cotton.  It  boasted  no  fine  handmade  imported  lace  or  golden 
threads.  There  was  no  mile-long  train,  no  ermine  robe,  no  richly  accoutered  retinue,  no 
high-stepping  steeds  with  rich  trappings.  Missing  was  the  martial  music  and  gay 
aplomb,  yet  the  expectancy  of  the  moment  filled  all  the  room. 

The  one  person  who  could  make  the  coronation  a  certainty  had  not  yet  arrived. 
It  was  this  momentarily  expected  presence  which  gave  such  a  somber  air  to  the  pro- 

Off  to  one  side  an  elderly  lady  was  praying  with  bowed  head.  Sh-e  was  the  queen 
mother,  and  perhaps  the  most  concerned  of  all,  to  have  everything  go  off  well.  The 
queen  herself,  as  she  waited  almost  breathlessly,  seemed  in  a  tranquil  state,  for  this  was 
her  day. 

The  silence  became  more  intense.  No  one  so  much  as  whispered.  Then  in  an  in- 
stant all  was  changed.    The  awaited  guest  had  arrived! 

"It  is  a  boy!"  the  doctor  announced  happily,  and  a  lusty  wail  let  everyone  know 
that  the  prince  was  very  much  alive. 

The  young  man  gathered  the  queen  into  his  arms  and  kissed  her  as  he  smoothed 
her  shining  hair.  In  her  eyes  was  a  radiance  that  seemed  brighter  than  Stardust  to  him; 
his  eyes  were  misty  because  the  woman  who  had  just  received  the  most  precious  crown 
in  all  the  wodd,  the  Crown  of  Motherhood,  was  his  wife. 

Lest  She  Forget 

Hazel  K.  Todd 

MARTHA  had  always  known 
through  those  three  wonder- 
ful years  that  some  day  Lin- 
da's father  Kent  would  come  and 
take  her  away.  She  would  see  him, 
in  imagination,  coming  through  the 
apple  orchard  up  the  currant  bush 
path  that  led  to  the  home  where 
she  and  Chris  lived.  She  would  see 
Kent's  lean  frame  and  his  dark  hair 
and  the  stride  of  his  long  legs.  He 
would  come  and  take  away  his  child 
even  as  he  had  brought  her  that 
spring  morning  after  her  mother 
had  been  buried  in  the  hillside 
cemetery.  And  then  she  and  Chris 
would  be  left  lonely  and  childless 
again,  just  as  they  had  been  before 
the  loan  of  the  tiny  bit  of  sunshine 
that  had  filled  the  empty  places 
with  laughter  and  the  long  days 
and  evenings  with  useful  things  to 

Martha  tried  not  to  think  of  that 
time,  but  it  had  a  cruel  way  of  slip- 
ping onto  her  unexpectedly  in  the 
night  when  the  crickets  kept  her 
awake,  or  when  Linda  sat  at  her 
knee  and  she  brushed  the  shining 
ripples  of  her  yellow  hair.  Some- 
times it  cut  her  like  a  keen-edged 
knife  when  she  saw  Chris  carrying 
Linda  on  his  shoulders  and  chant- 
ing to  her  one  of  his  funny  rhymes. 

Just  as  now,  she  saw  them  coming 
through  the  orchard,  Chris  holding 
to  Linda's  bare  legs  that  were  round 
his  neck.  The  little  girl  had  a 
sprig  of  apple  blossom  stuck  jaunt- 
ilv  into  her  hair  and  she  laughed 
merrily  while  Chris,  in  his  deep, 
good  natured  voice  sang  out  the 
words : 

Bow  wow  wow, 

The  beggars  are  coming  to  town 
Some  in  rags,  some  in  shags, 
And  some  in  silken  gowns  .... 

Chris  saw  Martha  then  where  she 
sat  with  her  pan  of  strawberries  on 
the  garden  bench.  With  an  upward 
swing  of  his  big  arm,  he  slid  his 
burden  gently  to  the  ground,  and 
the  little  girl  came  running  to  Mar- 
tha. She  scrambled  onto  the  bench 
and  grasped  the  woman  by  the 

"Guess  what,  Aunt  Martha!"  she 
babbled  with  excitement. 

"What?"  Martha  asked  with  in- 

"Chris's  goin'  to  build  me  a  play- 

"A  playhouse?"  Martha  ex- 
claimed, kissing  the  child's  hands 
round  her  neck. 

"A  house  with  a  chimney  and  a 
table  and  a  cupboard,  and  .  .  .  ." 

"Wonderful!"  Martha  tried  to 
squeeze  the  ache  from  her  heart. 

"May  I  go  tell  Peter?"  the  child 
asked,  still  bubbling. 

"Why,  I  guess  so,  if  you  won't 
be  late  for  supper,"  Martha  said, 
and  she  watched  the  little  girl  run 
away  on  nimble  bare  legs  across  the 
orchard  path. 

"Like  a  fairy  elf,"  she  whispered, 
and  Chris  came  and  sat  down  by 
her.  He  lifted  the  pan  of  berries 
from  her  lap  and  set  them  on  the 
edge  of  the  bench.  "Could  it  be 
we're  going  to  have  strawberry  pie 
for  supper?"  he  asked,  resting  his 
hand  affectionately  on  hers. 

Page  291 



lyrARTIIA  half  smiled  at  him  and 
then  suddenly  she  clutched 
his  arm,  "Oh,  how  can  we  ever  give 
her  up,  Chris?"  she  held  onto  him 

Chris  patted  her  hand  reassuring- 
ly. He  was  always  so  calm  about 
it.  But  she  saw  him  gaze  out  across 
the  apple  trees  to  the  green  roof  of 
the  house  beyond  where  Linda's^ 
parents  had  lived.  "Three  years  is 
a  long  time,  Martha.  I  have  been 
thinking  that  maybe  Kent  will  nev- 
er come  back."  « 

But  Martha  knew  that  Chris 
knew  better.  And  after  he  had  gone 
she  still  kept  looking  at  the  green 
roof  that  had  become  in  the  three 
years,  an  emblem  to  remind  her  that 
Linda  was  not  really  hers.  She  went 
back  again  to  the  days  when  Kent 
and  Ann  had  lived  there  together. 
They  had  been  so  much  in  lo\e. 
And  she  had  shared  with  Ann  the 
coming  of  her  baby,  a  joy  that 
would  never  be  her  own.  But  Ann 
had  never  been  well  after  the  birth 
of  little  Linda.  More  and  more  she 
had  relied  on  Martha  to  help  her 
with  the  babv  and  her  other  home 
responsibilities.  And  then  had  come 
the  time  when  she  could  no  longer 
take  care  of  them  at  all.  So  she  had 
died,  and  they  had  buried  her  in 
the  hillside  cemetery.  Kent's  grief 
had  been  an  awful  thing. 

In  the  early  morning  he  had 
come  to  her  carrying  Linda,  scarce- 
ly more  than  a  year  old.  He  had 
laid  the  tiny,  golden-haired  girl  in 
her  arms  while  his  voice  choked 
with  tears.  "Take  care  of  her,  Mar- 
tha, for  me.  I  know  you  and  Chris 
will  do  it  better  than  anyone  else  in 
the  w^orld.  When  I  can  stand  it 
alone  here  without  Ann  I  will  come 

back.  Just  for  a  little  while,  Mar- 
tha." And  then  he  had  gone  hur- 
riedly down  the  path  by  the  cur- 
rant bushes,  lea\ing  Linda  whim- 
pering for  her  mother. 

Since  then  time  had  fled  on  wings 
of  lightning  for  Martha,  busy  with 
her  new-found  joy.  The  days  had 
lengthened  into  weeks  and  months. 
Three  times  the  apple  trees  had 
bloomed.  There  had  been  brief 
messages  from  Kent,  from  different 
corners  of  the  earth,  and  gifts  for 
Linda,  who  babbled  about  a  daddv 
that  she  couldn't  remember,  while 
Linda's  life  wound  itself  tighter  and 
tighter  around  the  hearts  of  two 
lonely  people. 

jV/fARTHA  was  brought  back  from 
her  re\erie  by  the  voices  of 
Linda  and  Peter.  They  were  com- 
ing through  the  orchard  from  Pet- 
er's home,  where  he  lived  alone 
with  his  aged  grandmother.  Linda, 
skipping  and  Peter  with  his  ragged 
o\eralls,  his  hundreds  of  freckles, 
and  his  stick  horse  that  bucked  and 
galloped  for  Linda's  attention. 

"Aunt  Martha,  where  is  Chris?" 
Linda  soon  wanted  to  know.  "ILis 
he  got  my  playhouse  builded  yet? 
Peter  wants  to  see  my  playhouse." 

"Already?"  Martha  laughed. 
"Why,  darling,  it  takes  days  and 
days  to  build  a  playhouse.  But  I 
am  sure  Peter  can  see  it  when  it's 

Peter  grinned,  showing  a  vacant 
space  in  his  upper  tooth  row. 

Chris  came  then  and  took  turns 
with  the  two  children,  bucking  and 
galloping  like  a  wild  horse  around 
the  giant  tree  until  he  was  so  worn 
out  he  had  to  sit  down  on  the 
ground  to  rest. 



"Will  you  build  my  playhouse 
tomorrow?"  Linda  wanted  to  know 
emphatically,  as  she  climbed  onto 
his  knee. 

"If  you  will  first  let  me  tickle 
your  toes  and  then  your  nose," 
Chris  said  to  her  with  a  funny  wink. 
And  she  pulled  his  nose  in  merri- 

But  to  Martha  there  was  some- 
thing ominous  about  the  playhouse, 
as  though  it  were  a  foreboding  of 
disaster.  Perhaps  it  was  because  she 
thought  of  it  as  something  perma- 
nent, something  to  last  through  the 
years,  the  ones  that  were  so  uncer- 
tain. Even  when  she  measured  the 
tiny  windows  and  planned  the  pink 
ruffled  curtains,  she  had  to  shake  off 
a  sense  of  calamity.  Too  often  she 
caught  herself  staring  at  the  green 
roof  beyond  the  apple  trees.  At 
night  when  she  had  tucked  Linda 
into  bed  she  found  it  almost  im- 
possible to  tear  herself  away  from 
the  child's  bed.  Once  when  she  sat 
thus,  staring  at  the  sleeping  child, 
she  turned  and  caught  Chris  watch- 
ing her  from  the  doorway.  She  was 
almost  embarrassed,  and  in  her  be- 
wilderment she  went  to  him  and 
slipped  her  hand  into  his. 

He  squeezed  it  without  saying 

Suddenly  she  turned  to  him  im- 
pulsively and  said,  "Oh,  Chris,  what 
is  wrong  about  the  playhouse?  I 
feel  as  though  it  were  taking  Linda 
away  from  me!" 

Then  Chris  let  go  her  hand  and 
held  onto  her  arms  with  his  two 
strong  hands.  He  looked  down  into 
her  face  in  tender  solicitude.  "Mar- 
tha, don't  let  this  come  over  you. 
It  is  the  one  thing  I  have  been 
afraid  of  since  that  morning  when 

Kent  left  us  his  little  girl.  Perhaps 
she  will  always  be  ours,  but,  if  she 
isn't,  we  must  remember — we  must 
not  forget  the  things  that  are  left!" 
Martha  understood.  It  seemed 
she  had  always  to  be  reminded.  She 
looked  at  Chris  gratefully.  Big,  un- 
derstanding Chris!  He  had  always 
come  to  her  in  her  desperate  mo- 
ments. "Forgive  me,  Chris,"  she 
said.  "It  is  a  wonderful  playhouse. 
Tomorrow  I  will  finish  the  cur- 

A  ND  so  the  next  evening  Martha 
sat  on  the  garden  bench  and 
stitched  the  pink  curtains  while 
Linda  played  with  Peter  in  the 
sand  pile.  A  little  while  ago  she 
had  seen  him  tickling  her  legs  with 
a  long  stick  and  Linda  had  chased 
him  around  the  apple  tree  with  a 
bucket  of  sand,  but  now  they  were 
busy  sticking  sprigs  of  apple  blos- 
som into  the  tiny  rows  of  sand  they 
had  made.  Martha  was  finishing  a 
red  rosette  on  the  tie-back.  She 
laid  it  in  her  lap  and  looked  up 
from  the  intricate  work  a  moment 
to  rest  her  eyes.  And  then  she  saw 
Kent  as  she  always  knew  she  would, 
coming  up  the  path  through  the 
apple  orchard,  his  long  stride  rapidly 
measuring  off  the  distance  between 

She  watched  him  coming  as 
though  in  a  dream.  Suddenly  it 
was  a  crazy  world  that  reeled  and 
swirled,  with  somewhere  a  familiar 
face  from  out  of  the  past  that  went 
round  and  round  and  presently 
came  to  a  standstill  immediately  be- 
fore her,  so  close  that  she  could  see 
the  gray  of  his  hair.  It  was  appal- 
ling! Only  three  years  ago  his  hair 
had  been  completely  a  dark  brown, 
and  now  the  temples  were  entirely 



white,  with  streaks  of  gray  through- 
out his  head.  Her  hps  formed  the 
words,  but  it  was  a  long  time  before 
she  could  make  the  sound  come. 
*Tou— you  have  come  for  her!" 

''Don't  you  think  it  is  about 
time?"  Kent  asked,  watching  her  in- 

"But— but  you  have  been  gone  so 
long  .  .  .  ." 

''Don't  you  remember,  Martha, 
I  said  I  would  come  back?" 

Then  she  felt  Chris  beside  her, 
felt  the  strength  come  into  her 
numbed  body,  and  she  could  think. 
Chris  was  putting  out  his  hand  to 
the  man  standing  there  by  the  ap- 
ple tree.  "Kent,  old  man,  it's  good 
to  see  you." 

Martha  stood  up,  trying  to  think 
of  the  things  she  must  do.  "Linda!" 
she  called,  and  the  little  girl  came 
skipping  her  one-leg  skip.  "Your  .  .  . 
daddy  is  here." 

jyfARTHA  watched  while  every 
fibre  of  her  body  wanted  to 
cry  out  in  rebellion,  as  the  little  girl 
came  hesitantly  forward.  Her  hair 
was  tousled  from  her  play,  but  nev- 
er before  had  Martha  seen  the  lights 
shine  so  in  it.  Her  hand  slid  into 
its  yellow  glory  while  she  watched 
the  man  before  them. 

He  caught  his  breath  quickly,  and 
impulsively  put  out  his  hand.  "Lin- 
da—Linda—my little  girl!"  She 
came  forward  then,  and  he  leaned 
and  lifted  her  into  his  arms.  He  ran 
his  fingers  through  her  curls.  "You 
are  the  picture  of  your  mother,"  he 

"Aunt  Martha  says  I  have  honey- 
candy  hair,"  Linda  said. 

"Yes,  Linda,  like  hers— wild  hon- 
ey hair.     Tell  me,  are  you  a  good 

girl?     Do  you  do  what  Aunt  Mar- 
that  and  Chris  tell  you  to?" 

"Peter  doesn't  mind  his  grand- 
mother sometimes,"  the  little  girl 
said.  "Sometimes  he  comes  over 
here  when  she  doesn't  know  it." 

"Now,  who  could  Peter  be?" 

The  child  pointed  her  finger  to 
the  sand  pile  where  a  little  freckle- 
faced  boy  sat  forlornly  looking  on. 
"That's  Peter,"  she  said. 

"Oh,"  Kent  said,  gazing  at  the 
lonely  little  figure.  And  then  he 
added  quickly,  "I  brought  you 
something.  Perhaps  you  can  share 
it  with  Peter."  He  drew  a  long  pack- 
age from  his  pocket,  hurriedly  tore 
off  the  wrapping  and  opened  the 
lid.  Linda  clapped  her  hands  with 
pleasure.  It  was  a  box  of  tiny  plas- 
tic birds.  "Here,  put  them  in  your 
flower  garden,"  he  said,  handing  her 
the  box. 

She  took  it  excitedly  and  ran 
calling  to  Peter  with  the  new-found 

"How  will  you  take  care  of  her?" 
Martha  asked,  sitting  on  the  bench 
to  relieve  the  wobbling  in  her 

"POR.  a  while  Kent  looked  beyond 

the  apple  trees.     Then  he  said 

simply,  "I  am  going  to  be  married." 

Martha  stared  at  him. 

"She  is  a  lovely  girl,  Martha.  You 
see  she  was  lonely,  too.  She  lost 
her  husband  in  the  war.  It  has  been 
wonderful,  the  peace  that  has  re- 
turned to  me  since  I  met  Joyce." 
He  looked  away  again.  "It  is  dif- 
ferent from  Ann,  Martha.  But  I 
know  we  will  find  happiness  togeth- 
er. And  she  will  make  a  wonderful 
mother  for  Linda." 


The  words  cut  like  a  knife.  Mar- 
tha could  feel  her  face  burning. 

She  saw  the  confused  look  on 
Kent's  face.  He  came  quickly  and 
sat  down  beside  her.  "Forgive  me, 
Martha.  I  don't  want  to  hurt  you. 
I  know  you  have  been  die  best 
mother  in  the  world  for  Linda.  But 
don't  you  understand— I  can't  give 
up  my  little  girl— the  only  thing  I 
have  left  of  that  lovely  past.  Ann 
would  not  want  me  to  give  our  child 

Martha  had  been  struggling  des- 
perately. She  spoke  with  forced 
calmness.  'Tes,  Kent,  I  have 
always  tried  to  remember  that  Lin- 
da was  not  ours,  and  that  sometime 
you  would  come  back  for  her." 

There  was  one  last  hope.  She 
must  know.  ''Will  you— will  you 
be  living  in  your  place?" 

''No,  Martha."  He  paused.  ''Joyce 
and  I  think  it  would  be  best  to  be- 
gin our  life  together  some  new  place. 
I  have  sold  the  farm  to  a  couple 
with  six  small  children." 

Martha  stared  miserably  ahead. 
She  saw  Chris  leaning  against  the 
apple  tree.  She  had  forgotten  him. 
He  was  standing  there  quietly  pick- 
ing the  petals  from  a  sprig  of  apple 
bloom.  The  loosened  leaves  float- 
ed aimlessly  to  the  ground  and  lay 
in  a  pink  carpet  at  his  feet.  She 
wondered  vaguely  how  Chris,  who 
had  carried  Linda  on  his  shoulders, 
who  had  told  her  his  funny  rhymes, 
and  taken  her  piggy  back  riding, 
how  he  could  stand  there  calmly 
pulling  apple  blossoms  apart. 

"I  don't  intend  to  take  Linda 
away  where  you  can  never  see  her 
again,"  Kent  was  saying.  "I  know 
that  I  can  never  repay  you  at  all  for 
what  you  have  done.     She  could 


come  back  each  year  for  a  visit." 
His  eyes  dropped  to  the  blossom 
petals  at  Chris'  feet.  "Perhaps  in 
the  spring  when  the  apples  are  in 

Martha  looked  at  him  half  grate- 
fully, but  her  throat  ached,  and  she 
could  feel  tears  stinging  her  eyes. 
"When  are  you  going?" 

"In  the  morning,"  he  said,  while 
Martha  fought  desperately  to  keep 
the  tears  back.  "I  want  to  spend 
one  last  night .  . .  ."  His  voice  trailed 
off  with  his  gaze  through  the  trees. 

CO  it  was  morning.  Linda's  hair 
had  been  brushed  to  shining  rip- 
ples. Ller  gay  little  dress,  starched 
and  ironed  to  dainty  crispness, 
rustled  as  she  danced  about  excited- 
ly around  the  big  box  that  con- 
tained all  her  things. 

Then  Peter  was  standing  there 
shyly,  pushing  his  queer  package  in- 
to Linda's  hand.  "It's  my  bird  eggs, 
Linda,"  he  said.  "You  can  have 
them."  And  then  before  she  had 
time  to  open  the  pitiful  little  pack- 
age, or  even  tell  him  goodbye,  he 
was  gone. 

One  moment  Martha  had  the 
child  in  her  arms,  with  the  bright 
head  against  her  breast  and  her 
own  lips  pressed  to  the  shining 
curls,  and  the  next  moment  she  was 

Martha  didn't  know  how  long 
she  stood  there  staring  at  the  empty 
trail  down  the  currant  bushes.  But, 
suddenly,  she  was  aware  of  the  ring 
of  Chris'  hammer.  She  turned  and 
stared  at  him.  How  could  he  be 
driving  nails  into  Linda's  playhouse! 
But  he  was!  He  was  nailing  the 
wooden  chimney  into  its  place,  a 
square    chimney    marked    off    like 



bricks,  pointing  mockingly  into  the 

He  must  have  read  the  horror  in 
her  face,  for  he  laid  the  hammer 
calmly  on  the  roof  and  stepped 
down  from  his  wooden  box.  He 
came  to  her  and  took  her  two  hands 
between  his  own. 

"Why  are  you  building  the  play- 
house, Chris?    What  for?" 

Chris  pressed  her  hands  until 
they  hurt,  hurt  until  she  could  have 
cried  out.  She  could  feel  his  eyes 
burning  into  her.  ''Because,  Mar- 
tha, darling,  we  can't  gi\e  up.  We 
must  go  on." 

''But,  Chris,  what  is  the  use  with- 
out Linda!"  She  was  almost  hys- 

"Martha,  over  across  the  orchard 
there  will  be  children.  You  remem- 
ber, Kent  said— six  small  children. 
Their  mother  will  need  help.  They 
can  play  in  the  playhouse.  And— 
have  you  forgotten  all  the  springs 
when  the  apples  are  in  bloom,  Linda 
will  come.  Her  playhouse  will  be 
waiting  for  her.  Don't  you  see?  It 
must  be  finished,  with  the  chimney 
and   the   table  and   the  pink   cur- 

tains .  .  .  ." 

Martha  felt  the  tension  in  Chris' 
body,  felt  him  trying  to  help  her. 
She  reached  out  her  hand  uncon- 
sciously and  it  rested  on  a  head. 
She  looked  slowly  down  into  a  pair 
of  eves  red  with  crying.  It  was 
Peter,  his  tousled  red  hair  filled  with 
dry  leaves  and  sticks  from  the  bush- 
es where  he  had  wept  in  loneliness 
for  his  only  playmate.  Poor  little 
Peter,  living  with  a  grandmother 
who  \\'as  too  blind  to  know  that  his 
overalls  needed  patching. 

"Peter,"  Martha  said,  "I  must  go 
to  see  your  grandmother.  Perhaps 
I  can  help  her.  And  —  and  you 
must  come  over  every  day  and  help 
me."  She  looked  up  at  Chris,  and 
he  gave  her  a  wink. 

"Better  still,"  he  said,  beckoning 
to  Peter,  "I  need  a  man  to  help  me 
build  this  house.  Peter,  would  you 
like  to  hold  this  wobbly  chimney 

Martha  looked  out  across  the  ap- 
ple trees  to  the  green  roof.  It  will 
still  be  there,  she  thought,  to  re- 
mind me  of  all  the  things  that  are 


Mary  EJIen  B.  WorJcman 

Time  to  grieve? 

Oh,  heart,  put  grief  away! 

Seek  out  the  beauties  of  today — 

The  unsung  song,  the  flag  unfurled, 

The  babe  new-born  unto  the  world, 

The  child's  smile,  eyes  that  shine 

Lighted  by  his  love  sublime. 

Life's  joys  are  here,  and  here  shall  stay 
To  make  you  glad  upon  the  \\ay. 
Your  love  is  pure,  Christ's  gifts  complete; 
In  God's  own  time  you,  too,  shall  sleep — 
And  live  again,  no  more  to  weep! 

Come,  dear  heart,  time  is  not  long! 
Put  off  your  grief,  make  life  your  song. 

Grace  T.  Kirton 


[Deserted  (garden 

Matia  McCldhnd  Buik 

I  cannot  bear  to  visit  any  more 
The  desert  homestead  where  I  was  a  child, 
And  see  that  dry  and  thorny  weed-grown  ruin, 
My  Mother's  lovely  garden,  now  grown  wild. 

Her  neat,  trimmed  roses  are  an  unkempt  hedge; 
Gone  is  her  dahlia  rainbow  in  the  fall; 
No  trumpet  vine  calls  hummingbirds  in  spring. 
No  scarlet  tulips  blossom  by  the  wall. 

Just  one  gnarled  lilac,  blooming  by  the  gate; 
One  tangled  bed  of  orange  poppies  gleams; 
No,  rather  would  I  seek  more  perfect  flowers 
In  that  dear  garden  of  my  childhood  dreams. 

Page  297 

Miracles  and  Mother 

Eileen  Gibbons 

4  4]%  yTOTHER,  ifs  for  you!" 
Wf  Three  daughters,  who 
used  to  dash  for  the 
telephone  every  time  it  rang  and 
answer  with  an  anticipant  ''Hi!" 
now  calmly  raise  it  from  the  hook, 
mutter  a  calm  "Hello,"  and  sigh, 
''Mother,  it's  for  you." 

Listen  closely,  and  you  can  hear 
them  add  to  themselves,  "It's 
always  for  you!" 

You  see,  I'm  one  of  the  three 
daughters,  and  my  mother  is  the 
president  of  a  ward  Relief  Society. 
She's  relatively  new  in  the  job  of 
being  ward  mother,  but  during  the 
months  she  has  been,  we  girls,  our 
four  brothers,  and  our  father  have 
witnessed  a  miracle. 

Miracles  aren't  exactly  unusual 
in  big  families.  Ours  has  managed 
to  remain  happy  through  periods  of 
economic  depression,  broken  teen- 
age hearts,  the  cruel  adolescent  teas- 
ings  of  too  many  freckled-faced 
brothers,  and  the  mischief  of  a  sev- 
en-year-old named  Ted. 

But  Mother  is  the  real  miracle. 
For  as  long  as  we  can  remember, 
she  has  been  doing  extra,  unusual 
things,  to  save  time,  effort,  and 
money.  Five  a.m.  rising  to  pick 
raspberries  on  shares,  midnight  wall- 
papering parties,  and  the  care  of 
ten  pens  of  rabbits  are  among  her 
''saving"  ideas. 

Add  to  these  washing,  ironing, 
cleaning,  and  cooking  for  nine,  and 
you  have  someone  much  too  busy 
to  sit  and  visit,  read  a  good  book, 
or  call  on  a  neighbor  for  a  friendly 
chat.     Yet,    these    are    the    things 

Page  298 

every  busy  housewife  hopes  some 
day  to  find  time  to  do. 

That's  why  when  Mother  told 
us  the  bishop  wanted  her  to  be 
president  of  the  Relief  Society  we 
all  gasped  "When?" 

Mother  already  moved  from  one 
job  to  another  like  lightning  and 
was  the  first  awake  and  the  last  to 
bed.  We'd  chastized  her  plenty  of 
times  about  moving  too  fast,  and 
now  the  Church  wanted  to  give  her 
one  of  its  biggest  jobs.  For  several 
days  we  talked  about  it. 

"She's  just  the  person,  but  .  .  ." 
—"Wouldn't  she  be  wonderful! 
but  .  .  .?"  and  then  there  was  just 
the  plain  "But,  Mother!" 

Of  course  Mother  said  yes.  She 
had  already  said  yes  when  we  were 
going  around  the  house  wondering 
"When?"  to  ourselves  and  saying 
"But  .  .  ."  to  her. 

At  the  time.  Mother  was  in  the 
Primary  presidency  and  theology 
teacher  in  the  Relief  Society.  She 
was  baking  twelve  loaves  of  bread 
every  week,  keeping  a  surplus  of 
canned  food  in  the  basement,  and 
frozen  food  in  the  locker. 

Mother  also  spent  an  hour  every 
day  helping  the  child  up  the  street 
improve  his  reading  so  he  could  be 
promoted.  She  was  giving  several 
minutes  a  day  to  Larry  because  he 
needed  tangible  encouragement  be- 
side him  while  he  practiced  the 

Torn  denim  knees  had  a  way  of 
appearing,  and  old  rags  had  to  be 
made  into  rugs.  It  was  too expensi\e 
for  the  girls  to  buy  all  their  clothes. 



and  as  long  as  shirts  and  trousers 
could  be  made  from  Dad's  old 
suits  and  our  too-small  coitons,  the 
little  boys  would  wear  them  home- 

A  new  latch  on  the  door,  new 
paint  in  the  bedroom,  the  buckle 
torn  from  a  shoe— a  myriad  of  little 
jobs  were  already  appearing  daily 
and  Mother  was  squeezing  them  in. 

And  now  the  bishop  wanted  her 
to  ...  . 

*I\7E  girls  told  her  how  happy  we 
were,  and  at  the  same  time 
gestured  melodramatic  stories  about 
how  we  would  probably  have  to 
quit  school  and  our  jobs  so  Mother 
could  work  in  the  Relief  Society. 

That  was  several  months  ago. 
And  Mother  is  still  busy  because 
she  still  has  seven  children  and  the 
jobs  that  go  along  with  a  big  fam- 
ily. Of  course,  we  all  have  to  help 
a  little  more,  but  the  miracle  is  still 

Mother  has  been  able  to  do  the 
job,  keep  up  her  home,  and  bring 
a  new  spirituality,  enthusiasm,  and 
happiness  into  her  relations  with 
her  family.  This  is  the  miracle. 
Mother  has  more  time  and  energy 
than  she  has  ever  had  before. 

''Mother,  it's  for  you,''  calls  her 
to  the  phone  at  least  a  dozen  times 
every  day.  Someone  feels  she 
ought  to  let  Mother  know  that  Sis- 
ter Wallace  is  ill.  Her  first  coun- 
selor phones  to  say,  ''Sure,  we  can 
go  visiting  the  shut-ins  this  after- 

Perhaps  it's  a  death  in  the  ward. 
That  usually  means  food  to  pre- 

pare, comfort  to  give,  an  assortment 
of  needs  to  fill.  There  arc  flowers 
to  arrange  and  children  to  tend. 

Meetings  need  to  be  planned, 
work  days  scheduled,  offices  filled— 
the  usual  duties  of  a  president— all 
are  there.  And  Mother  does  them. 
She  thinks,  eats,  and  sleeps  Relief 
Society.  It  is  her  life,  her  chance 
to  serve. 

She  has  found  time  to  do  it  well, 
along  with  her  washing,  sewing, 
cooking,  and  cleaning,  and  the  mul- 
titude of  household  jobs  that  come 

And  if  you  tiptoe  into  her  room 
almost  any  evening,  you'll  find  her 
sitting  up  in  bed  reading  a  good 
book,  the  newspaper,  or  a  magazine 
—to  her  a  luxury. 

And  it  isn't  late.  Only  the  little 
boys  are  in  bed.  But  you  see.  Moth- 
er is  tired  at  night  as  always.  She 
still  has  too  much  to  do,  and  we 
still  tell  her  she  does  it  too  swiftly. 

But  she  is  a  new  woman.  There 
is  contentment  instead  of  exhaus- 
tion after  a  day  of  hard  work.  There 
is  joy  at  every  chance  to  help  or  ex- 
pression of  gratitude  from  the 
helped.  There  is  love  between  her 
and  a  hundred  women  she  never 
knew  before.  Most  of  all,  there  is 
a  realization  and  a  firm  testimony 
in  her  heart  that  wards  are  living, 
complex  units  that  need  a  mother. 

And  the  children?  We  enjoy  our 
miracle  Mother.  And  it  hasn't  hurt 
us  girls  at  all  to  cook  a  little  more 
often,  sew  on  a  few  buttons  our- 
selves, or  even  to  think  now  and 
then  that  "he"  surely  would  have 
called,  if  Mother  hadn't  been  presi- 
dent of  the  Relief  Society. 

(bixtii    LJears  J^go 

Excerpts  From  the  Woninii's  Exponent,  May  i,  and  May  15,  1894 

*'FoR  THE  Rights  of  the  \\'omen  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

THE  WOMAN'S  CO-OPERATIVE  INSTITUTION:  Keeps  on  hand  dress 
goods  and  trimmings,  fancy  articles  and  notions,  books  and  stationery,  equipose  waists. 
Dressmaking  in  all  its  branches,  millinery,  latest  styles,  hats  and  bonnets  cleaned  and 
retrimmed.     Feathers  curled.     Stamping  done  to  order. 

— Selected 

WOMAN'S  SPHERE:  The  Father  chose  her  by  and  through  whom  all  his 
spiritual  children  should  come  to  earth,  and  so  ordered  that  she  should  be  first  to  know 
the  advent  of  the  spirit  to  its  home  .  .  .  and  not  until  she  has  endowed  it  with  the 
virtues  of  her  soul  does  she  present  it  a  priceless  offering  to  the  Lord.  Thus  woman  is 
recognized  by  the  eternal  decree  of  the  Father  to  be  the  first  to  cherish  humanity  .... 
In  view  of  the  fact  that  there  can  be  no  man  .  .  .  without  woman,  we  may  cease  to 
talk  about  woman's  sphere  as  though  it  had  a  limit,  other  than  the  world  in  which  she 
moves.  — S.  W.  Richards 


We're  now  laying  foundations  of  what  we  shall  be. 

For  life's  current  extends  to  eternity's  sea; 

And  whatever  debases,  ennobles,  refines, 

By  our  acts  we  imprint  in  indelible  lines. 

We're  the  offspring  of  God.    We  should  never  degrad( 

The  form  which  at  first  in  His  image  was  made  .... 

— Eliza  R.  Snow 

TROUBLE:  Never  bear  more  than  one  trouble  at  a  time.  Some  people  bear 
three  kinds  —  all  they  ever  had,  all  they  have  now,  and  all  they  expect  to  have. 

— Edward  Everett  Hale 

HERITAGE:  ....  While  we  journey  onward  and  upward,  let  us  clasp  hands 
as  sisters  in  sweet  assurance  of  helping  each  other  to  cross  the  desert  of  ignorance  and 
the  dark  river  of  tradition,  where  the  little  boats  of  error  and  superstition  glide  in  and 
out  alluring  the  unwary.  W^  will  watch  for  the  beacon  light  of  truth  that  shines  from 
afar  over  the  Elysian  fields  of  knowledge  and  understanding.  And  while  we  pursue 
our  pioneer  march,  let  us  not  forget  the  innumerable  company  that  follow  in  our  wake, 
and  leave  for  them  shining  waymarks,  hopeful  harbingers  of  success  in  attaining  the 
goal  of  our  ambitions.  — Selected 

conference  of  the  Relief  Society  of  Box  Elder  Stake  convened  in  the  Tabernacle  at 
Brigham  City,  on  the  13th  of  March.  President  Olivia  Widerborg  presiding.  Sister 
Bowring:  I  heard  Brother  Kimball  once  say  we  should  be  as  clay  in  the  potter's  hand, 
if  we  depend  on  the  Lord  we  shall  be  so.  We  can  do  a  great  deal  of  good  to  each 
other  ....  Emelia  D.  Madsen:  It  is  a  sacred  calling  to  be  a  president  or  an  officer  in 
the  Relief  Society.  The  teachers  in  visiting  should  try  to  find  the  needy.  They  need 
to  possess  the  spirit  of  the  Lord,  the  spirit  of  discernment,  and  great  big  hearts  that 
they  may  find  even  those  who  shrink  from  recei\ing  help  in  their  need  ....  Counselor 
Mary  Wright:  Let  us  not  find  fault  with  each  other,  it  is  weakening  to  ourselyes,  let 
us  do  all  the  good  we  can  .... 

— Emelia  D.  Madsen,  Cor.  Sec. 

Page  300 

Woman's  Sphere 

Ramona  W.  Cannon 


wife  of  President  David  O. 
McKay  of  The  Chureh  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints,  has  been 
named  Utah's  "Mother  of  the  Yeai" 
for  1Q54.  She  will  go  to  New  York 
City  this  month  to  join  other  state 
winners  in  the  events  taking  place 
when  the  ''American  Mother  of  the 
Year"  will  be  chosen.  Mrs.  McKay, 
mother,  homemaker,  musician,  has 
long  been  active  in  community  and 
Church  activities  and  has  accom- 
panied President  McKay  upon  his 
world  travels. 



(Mrs.  Clinton  R.  Burt),  noted 
and  dynamic  Salt  Lake  author,  has 
three  new  volumes  on  the  market. 
Young  Jed  Smith— Westering  Boy 
is  an  interesting,  action-filled  story 
of  this  famous  personality  of  the 
early  West;  Camel  Express  is  the 
tale  of  a  strange  and  little  known 
episode  in  Western  history;  and 
Peter's  Sugar  Farm,  has  West  Jord- 
an, Utah,  as  its  locale. 

lyiRS.  BENJAMIN  F.  (Ardella 
^  *  Bitner)  TIBBY,  a  native  Salt 
Laker,  but  for  the  last  twenty-one 
years  superintendent  of  the  Comp- 
ton  City  Schools,  Compton,  Cali- 
fornia,  delivered  one  of  the  prin- 

cipal addresses  at  the  convention  of 
the  American  Association  of  School 
Administrators,  held  in  Atlantic 
City,  New  Jersey,  in  February.  Past 
normal  retiring  age,  Mrs.  Tibby  is 
considered  too  valuable  to  the 
school  system  to  be  permitted  to 
leave.  She  ranks  as  one  of  the  fore- 
most women  educators  in  America. 

QRANDMA  MOSES,  ninety- 
three,  has  just  presented  one  of 
her  latest  primitive  paintings,  'The 
Battle  of  Bennington,"  to  the 
Daughters  of  the  American  Revolu- 

"DIRTHDAY  congratulations  are 
extended  to  Mrs.  Lizzie  Col- 
born,  Salt  Lake  City,  one  hundred 
one;  Mrs.  Susanna  Matilda  Cowels 
Huish,  Spring  Lake,  Utah,  ninety- 
nine;  Mrs.  Catherine  Matilda  Beck, 
San  Leandro,  California,  ninety- 
eight;  Mrs.  Euphemia  Jane  Carter 
Freeman,  Salt  Lake  City,  ninety- 
seven;  Mrs.  Margaret  Blair  Crab- 
tree,  Idaho  Falls,  Idaho,  ninety- 
three;  Mrs.  Martha  Musser  Sheets 
Davis,  Salt  Lake  City,  ninety-three; 
Mrs.  Sarah  Elizabeth  Goodwin  Bin- 
nal.  Granger,  Utah,  ninety;  Mrs. 
Rosella  Marie  P.  T.  Jacobsen,  Mt. 
Pleasant,  Utah,  ninety. 

Page  301 


VOL.  41 

MAY  1954 

NO.  5 

[Portrait  of  I J  lot  her 

TN  a  certain  old-fashioned  house, 
there  was  an  embroidered  sam- 
pler on  the  living  room  wall,  which 
proclaimed  a  message  that  the  chil- 
dren in  that  home  could  never  for- 
get. At  first,  when  they  were  small, 
the  message  seemed  to  refer  to  their 
grandmother,  but  later,  upon  re- 
turning to  the  beloved  family  home, 
they  knew  that  the  message  re- 
ferred to  their  own  dear  mother. 

We  are  coming,  Mother,  coming — 
From  the  loom  and  from  the  mine — 
Though  it  be  our  last  sweet  homing 
On  that  mother  breast  of  thine. 

In  times  of  separation  from  our 
mothers,  whether  it  be  the  absence 
caused  by  the  temporary  affairs  of 
earth,  or  that  longer  waiting  until 
the  time  of  reunion  in  the  heavenly 
home,  we  often  try  to  picture  in 
memory  the  portrait  of  our  mothers. 
Sometimes  an  evanescent  happen- 
ing or  even  some  familiar  scene  — 
a  flower  garden,  a  thread  of  music, 
a  lighted  window  —  may  bring  to 
us,  unexpectedly,  a  vivid  and 
strangely  comforting  portrait  of 

The  dear  face  may  be  remem- 
bered well,  and  the  busy,  untiring 
hands,  the  quick  step  in  the  kitch- 
en, the  quiet  step  to  a  child's  crib. 
One  woman  may  remember  that 
once,  upon  admitting  some  misde- 
meanor of  childhood,  the  mother 
only  looked  at  her  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  and  had  to  wait  to  find  some- 
thing to  say.    Another  woman  may 

Page  302 

recall  how  swiftly  her  mother's  fing- 
ers flew  in  sewing  white  lace  upon 
an  infant's  dress.  The  portraits  are 
varied  and  beautiful. 

Though  we  may  not  realize  the 
full  influence  of  these  memories— 
these  portraits,  we  know  that  in 
large  measure  they  determine  our 
attitudes,  our  actions,  the  very 
course  of  our  lives.  One  woman 
has  been  influenced  throughout  her 
life  by  seeing  repeatedly,  in  mem- 
ory, her  mother,  who  had  come  to 
visit  the  daughter  at  college,  stand- 
ing, after  class  had  been  dismissed, 
with  her  hand  laid  tenderly  upon 
a  bench  in  the  room,  tears  in  the 
mother's  eyes.  Then  she  said, 
''Such  a  thing  as  this  learning  was 
never  possible  for  me,  but  I  am  so 
grateful  that  you  can  be  here." 

Another  woman,  sincerely  devot- 
ed to  the  work  of  the  Church,  re- 
calls, as  an  indelible  etching,  the 
portrait  of  her  mother  —  how  she 
hurried  down  the  poplar-lined  street, 
taking  her  little  daughter  with  her; 
how  quickly  the  mother  mounted 
the  wooden  steps  to  the  Relief  So- 
ciety Hall,  how  soon  she  was  taking 
charge  of  the  meeting  —  then  the 
music,  the  prayer,  the  quietness, 
and  the  light  upon  the  mother's 
face.  Strange  how  much  is  in- 
scribed upon  the  pliant  mind  of  a 
child  through  no  direct  word  being 
said.  It  is  by  spiritual  communion 
that  much  of  earth's  best  instruc- 
tion is  given  and  received. 



Many  of  us  may  be  fortunate 
enough  to  recall  the  portrait  of  a 
mother  who  honored  and  respected 
the  individualism  of  each  of  her 
children,  who  realized  that  each 
child  is  different  from  every  other 
personality,  the  heritage  given  by 
the  parents  coming  from  ancestral 
sources  remote  and  near,  but  always 
in  a  new  combination  of  character- 
istics, talents,  and  temperament, 
with  an  individual,  everlasting  spir- 
it.   The  mother  has  been  the  life- 

giving  vessel,  but  her  duty  and  her 
influence  are  best  exercised  through 
love,  patient  direction,  and  inspira- 
tional example.  And  mothers  who 
are  wise,  as  well  as  devoted,  may, 
over  the  years  and  into  old  age, 
share  in  the  shining  hopes,  ideals, 
and  accomplishments  of  their  chil- 
dren, and  these  mothers  may  be 
comforted  by  knowing  that  the  por- 
traits of  all  mothers  are  forever  in- 

-V.  P.  C. 

I  Lew  Serial,    cJhe  cf ailing  Shackles,    to  ujegin  in  ^une 

\  NEW  serial,  'The  Falling  Shackles,"  by  Margery  S.  Stewart,  will  begin 
in  the  June  Relief  Society  Magazine.  This  intimate  and  dramatic 
story  recounts  the  sad  and  amusing  experiences  of  a  family  from  Europe 
who  make  a  new  life  for  themselves  in  Salt  Lake  City.  The  author  is  well 
known  to  readers  of  the  Magazine,  having  contributed  many  excellent 
stories  and  poems.  Mrs.  Stewart's  work  has  also  received  recognition 
by  national  magazines  of  wide  circulation,  and  she  has  received  awards  in 
se\eral  contests,  including  the  Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest  and  the 
Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest. 

c/o   UJavid 

Marjoiie  Foote 

Tough  and  tousled  three-year-old, 
Hurtling  like  a  comet  jet 
Along  the  path,  across  the  street — 
A  mercury  with  wing-shod  feet. 
Bright  ribboned  years  do  now  unfold. 
Shot  with  silver,  red,  and  gold; 
High  adventures  to  be  met; 
Forward  now  your  course  is  set; 
Life's  dawn  for  you  is  sweet. 

We  set  small  store  by  worldly  gain 
But  here's  a  jewel-studded  crown: 
The  sapphire  of  a  blue  tit's  wing, 
The  liquid  gold  the  blackbirds  sing; 
Pearl-studded  trees  in  rain, 

Emeralds  from  the  leafy  lane; 
The  honeybee's  topaz  and  brown. 
Gay  rose's  gorgeous  ruby  gown. 
Each  sparkling  gem  of  spring. 

This  box  is  clasped  with  constant  prayer 
And  bounded  with  our  love  for  you. 
Its  key  of  truth  will  only  turn 
If,  with  clear  vision,  you  discern 
The  Priesthood  cloak  that  God  sets  there 
For  every  worthy  son  to  wear. 
Oh,  take  these  treasures  and  renew 
Your  covenants  each  day;  be  true. 
Oh,  let  his  lamp  forever  burn. 

oa|/  Ut   Vi/ith  d^lovoers 

Norma  W.  South 

npHE  words  so  often  used  by  the  growing  house  plants;  that  is  why 

florist  industry  bring  an  intrigu-  I  cannot  grow  them  as  well  as  she. 
ing  thought  to  me.    What  has  been  Perhaps  Mother  was  never  con- 
said  to  me  by  way  of  flowers?  What  scions    of    saying    things    with    her 
have  I  tried  to  say  to  others?  flowers;  we  were  not  conscious  of 

When  I  was  a  little  girl,  no  taller  receiving  the   messages.     But  they 

than     a    window    sill,     my    world  told  us  many  things  just  the  same, 

seemed  to  be  made  up  mostly  of  They  told  us  that  here  was  love  and 

flowers.    Dozens  of  flowering  house  patience,  not  only  for  the  plants, 

plants  lined  our  windows.  My  view  but  for  the  children  who  lived  with 

of    the    outside    world    was   always  them.    They  told  us  that  home  was 

framed  by  flowers  and,  as   I  grew  beautiful  and  warm  and  safe.     As 

taller,  by  lovely  foliage  and  flowers,  the  plants  cost  mother  not  a  cent, 

October,  there  was  often  wind  ^^^ey  told  us  that  there  are  many 
and  sleet  and  snow,  but  inside  it  beautiful  and  wonderful  thnigs  in 
was  always  summer.  Mother's  ge-  t^^e  world  which  have  nothhig  at 
raniums  were  deep  red,  bright  red,  all  to  do  with  money.  The  blossoms 
old  rose,  pink,  white,  and  salmon  cheered  us  through  childhood  ill- 
color.  The  Martha  Washington  "ess  and  gave  us  courage  when  fa- 
geranium,  with  its  gray-green  leaves,  ther  was  away  at  the  hospital  for 
had  single  flowers  of  old  rose,  with  three  whole  months.  They  taught 
deep  rose  throats.  The  fuchsia  was  "s  that  God  can  do  some  very  re- 
the  wonder  plant,  with  its  delicate  niarkable  things, 
stems  and  lavender-red  blossoms  I  can  close  my  eyes  and  see  the 
which  hung  down  like  bells  on  a  flowers  and  people  marching  through 
Christmas  tree.  The  Marguerite  ^Y  girlhood.  It  is  the  junior  prom, 
had  fern-like  foliage  and  large  white  There  are  new  formals,  flowers, 
daisy  blossoms.  Then  there  was  the  ecstasy!  Now  I  am  returning  from 
California  pink  which  had  a  bios-  a  college  spring  formal.  The  young 
som  of  fine  pink  fringe  and  no  man  in  the  tuxedo  takes  the  rose 
leaves  at  all;  it  had  queer  needles  from  his  lapel  and  presses  it  into 
like  those  of  an  evergreen!  my  hand.     The  little   flower   tells 

Every    night    through    the    long  the    sweet    message    for   which    he 

winter    months,    mother    patiently  cannot   find  adequate  words.     My 

carried  her  plants  from  the  windows  wedding  .  .  .  there  are  flowers  e\'ery- 

to    the   kitchen    table    where    thev  where.     Mother  is  saying,  ''Norma, 

would  be   safe   from   frost.     Every  the   pink    double   hollyhocks    ha\c 

morning  she  gave  each  plant  a  drink,  bloomed    early   this   year,    just    for 

One  year  she   took   new   slips  and  you."     She   is   so  happy   including 

repotted  all  the  plants,  using  rich  licr  flowers  in  the  plans. 

loamy    soil    from    under    the    wild  "We'll   decorate   the   table  with 

English     willows.     I     have     never  glads,  the  white  and  pink  coronas." 

learned  any  more  of  her  secrets  of  I  see  again  my  wedding  bouquet. 

Page  304 



The  years  are  rushing  on.  There 
are  flo\\ers  for  birthdays,  weddings, 
a  funeral  .  .  .  my  father's.  Now  I 
am  lying  in  a  hospital,  not  ill  at  all, 
but  rejoicing  over  the  safe  arrival  of 
our  third  child,  a  dear  little  boy. 
The  door  opens  and  a  sweet  little 
girl  of  nine  enters,  carrying  a  small 
bouquet  picked  from  my  own  gard- 
en. Her  blue  eyes  fill  with  tears; 
she  is  unable  to  speak,  but  the 
flowers  tell  what  she  has  come  to 
say.  I  reach  joyfully  for  the  flowers, 
and  the  little  blond  head  goes  down 
on  my  pillow.  It  is  so  lonesome  at 
home  without  Mommie. 

I  am  again  in  a  hospital,  stand- 
ing beside  a  white  bed.  It  is  a 
crisis  in  our  lives;  our  daughter  is 
very  ill  with  pneumonia.  I  lay  a 
cool  hand  on  her  feverish  brow. 
''Darling/'   I   begin,  trying   not  to 

let  my  voice  betray  my  fear,  ''re- 
member how  our  sweetpeas  looked 
last  summer  on  the  fence?  They 
were  so  pretty  when  a  cool  breeze 
stirred  them."  It  is  my  way  of  say- 
ing, ''Don't  be  afraid,  dear.  God 
will  watch  over  you  and  make  you 
well,  even  as  he  can  change  a  very 
small  seed  into  a  beautiful  flower- 
ing plant."  She  smiles  and  closes 
her  tired  eyes  in  sleep.  It  is  a  very 
good  sign. 

Today  a  spring  shower  has  re- 
freshed my  flower  garden.  The 
bleeding  heart  is  blooming  beau- 
tifullv.  The  iris,  narcissus,  and  tu- 
lips  are  waiting  to  be  made  into  a 
bouquet  for  our  table.  Through 
the  spring,  summer,  and  fall,  I  will 
find  things  to  say  to  my  family  and 
friends,  and  I  will  say  them  with 

O^reserving   Tfietal  [Planters 

Elizabeth  Wiliiamson 
qX)  prevent  the  corrosion  of  metal  planters,  line  them  with  melted  paraffin. 

Things  Will  Be  Different 

Virginid  M.  Kaiiiiiieyer 

SALLY  looked  around  the  apart- 
ment, surveying  it  with  dis- 
gust. "Will  I  be  glad  to  get 
away  from  you!"  she  thought. 

They  would  be  moving  soon- 
she  and  Bill  and  the  children, 
away  from  the  ugly  little  apartment, 
into  the  beautiful  house  with  the 
big  lawn  and  the  willow  tree. 

Sally  leaned  on  her  broom  and 
dreamed.  She  wouldn't  take  one 
piece  of  furniture  from  this  living 
room,  not  one  thing!  She'd  give  it 
all  to  the  junk  man  and  buy  new 
for  the  home  they  were  moving  to. 
She  gave  the  sofa  a  look  that 
should  have  withered  it.  One  side 
sagged  where  the  children  had 
jumped  on  it  too  hard.  And  the 
once-attractive  blue  frieze  uphol- 
stery had  succumbed  to  smears  of 
peanut  butter,  jelly,  and  molding 

Those  plastic  curtains  were  go- 
ing out.  She  would  have  draw  drapes 
at  the  big  picture  window— maybe 
cream-colored  silk  with  appliqued 
roses  to  match  the  roses  in  that 
elegant  carpet  she  had  seen  in 
Kranowski's  window. 

She  pulled  herself  back  to  the 
present,  picked  up  the  broom,  and 
set  it  down  again.  She  didn't  feel 
like  cleaning  this  place  anymore. 
Why  bother  to  mop  and  wax  the 
floors,  dust  the  furniture?  Soon 
sJie  would  be  bidding  it  all  goodby. 

Sallv  decided  to  nourish  her  soul. 
She  pushed  Karl's  truck  out  of  the 
way  and  sat  down  with  the  new 
Home  Lovely  magazine.  She  flipped 
through  the  pages  of  beautiful  ex- 
teriors and  exquisite  interiors,  read 
an   article   on   color   schemes,   and 

Page  306 

paused  to  admire  a  pictured  dexil's 
food  cake  and  dream  of  whipping 
it  up  in  her  own  gleaming  kitchen. 

She  became  so  absorbed  in  the 
magazine  that  she  jumped  when 
the  kitchen  door  banged.  Four- 
year-old  Karl  and  three-year-old  Ann 
came  in,  demanding  lunch.  Sally 
looked  at  the  clock— one-fifteen! 
She'd  really  have  to  fly  if  she  got 
anything  done  before  Bill  came 
home  from  work. 

She  hurried  the  children  through 
lunch  and  got  them  down  for  naps, 
then  washed  the  dishes  and  mopped 
up  the  soup  and  crumbs  under  the 
table.  It  was  three  o'clock  before 
she  got  to  cleaning  the  living  room. 
Bill  would  be  home  at  four-thirty. 

She  shoved  the  children's  dis- 
carded sweaters  into  the  closet, 
dumped  all  their  toys  together  into 
a  box,  and  threw  out  some  wilted 
flowers.  Now  to  make  the  beds 
and  see  what  she  could  prepare  for 

It  was  four-twenty-five.  Sally  op- 
ened the  refrigerator  and  found 
some  wieners  and  cold  boiled  po- 
tatoes. The  children  would  love  it 
if  she  fried  the  potatoes,  but  she 
wasn't  so  sure  about  Bill.  He  liked 
his  meals  balanced. 

She  backed  away  from  the  re- 
frigerator, both  hands  full,  and 
bumped  into  her  husband  in  the 
narrow  space  between  refrigerator 
and  table.  Wieners  and  potatoes 
flipped  upside  down  on  the  floor. 

''Oh,  Bill!  Just  see  what  you've 

She  knew  she  shouldn't  be  blam- 
ing Bill  for  the  accident,  but  the 
afternoon's  rush  had  left  her  short- 



tempered,  and,  as  she  picked  the 
food  off  the  floor,  the  tiny  kitchen 
suddenly  irritated  her. 

We  need  traffic  hghts  to  get 
around  in  here,  she  thought,  and 
then  grew  more  cheerful  as  she 
thought  of  leaving  it  all  behind. 

"DILL  still  stood  with  the  evening 
paper  in  his  hand,  wearing  that 
"Now  what  have  I  done?"  look. 
Sally  gave  him  a  peck  on  the  cheek 
and  carried  the  wieners  to  the  sink 
to  wash  them  off. 

Fried  potatoes  brought  squeals 
of  delight  from  the  children  and  a 
disapproving  look  from  Bill.  Sally, 
on  the  defensive,  said,  ''Honey,  I 
can't  prepare  a  decent  meal  on  two 
square  feet  of  counter  space." 

Bill  grunted  and  speared  a  potato. 

''Just  wait,  darling,"  and  she  put 
an  arm  around  him,  "when  we  move 
into  that  beautiful  big  kitchen  I'll 
prepare  wonderful  meals!" 

Next  morning  the  bank  called  to 
tell  Sally  that  the  loan  had  gone 
through  and  they  could  come  in 
any  time  to  sign  the  final  papers. 
Sally  put  down  the  phone,  and, 
humming,  went  to  find  a  box  to 
pack  her  best  dishes. 

She  was  crumpling  newspaper  in 
the  bottom  of  the  box,  when  the 
air  split  with  screams  from  outside. 
Sally  jumped  to  her  feet  and  ran 
out  the  door.  Karl  and  a  neighbor 
boy  were  chasing  Ann  around  the 
yard,  squirting  her  with  their  water 

"Stop  it!  Both  of  you!"  she  cried 
and  dragged  the  sobbing  child  away. 
"Don't  ever  do  that  again!"  And 
she  marched  Ann  into  the  house. 
She  comforted  her  with  a  cookie 
and  resumed  her  packing. 

It's  the  neighbor  boys  who  teach 

Karl  those  things,  she  decided,  just 
wait  till  we  move  into  a  civilized 

The  days  moved  quickly.  Sally 
packed  their  belongings,  wrote 
change-of-address  letters  to  the  milk- 
man, the  mailman,  and  the  tel- 
ephone company.  She  handed  in 
to  the  rental  office  their  notice  of 
intention  to  vacate,  and  received  in 
return  a  mimeographed  sheet  of  in- 
structions for  leaving  the  apartment. 
Be  sure,  it  said,  to  empty  the  garb- 
age, mow  the  lawn,  turn  in  the  key, 
and  so  on,  and  so  on. 

She  handed  the  sheet  to  Bill 
when  he  came  home,  with  the  sug- 
gestion that  he  get  busy  on  "oper- 
ation lawn  mower." 

Bill  flopped  in  a  chair,  a  pained 
expression  on  his  face.  "Let  a  man 
rest  for  a  minute.  I'll  get  at  it  after 

He  didn't  get  at  it  after  supper, 
nor  the  next  night,  nor  the  next. 
Tuesday  evening  Sally  reminded 
him  that  they  were  moving  Friday. 
Wednesday  at  supper  she  reminded 
him  again,  a  little  more  firmly,  and 
on  Thursday  afternoon  when  he 
came  home,  the  lawn  mower  was 
barring  the  door,  Sally  standing 
grimly  behind  it. 

"O.K,"  Bill  said,  shame  in  his  ex- 
pression, "I'll  mow  it.  But,  you 
know,  I'd  enjoy  it  a  lot  more  if  it 
was  our  own  lawn." 

His  voice  began  to  show  enthus- 
iasm as  he  pushed  the  mower 
through  the  grass.  "Just  wait  till 
I  get  started  on  our  own  yard.  I'll 
really  manicure  that  lawn— and 
trim  the  willow  tree— and  plant 
more  flowers!" 

'pHEY  spent  Friday  and  Saturday 
moving.     Bill    rented    a    truck. 



and  together  they  tugged  and  heaved 
the  furniture  onto  the  back  of  it. 
Sally  had  lost  her  battle  to  get  rid 
of  the  living-room  pieces.  She  was, 
in  Bill's  opinion,  lucky  to  get  a 
house.  So  the  sagging  sofa  went 
along  to  the  new  home. 

When  the  last  load  was  dropped 
in  the  middle  of  the  living  room, 
Sally  stopped  to  survey  the  place. 
This  was  home,  with  the  willow 
tree,  the  wide  lawn,  and  the  wis- 
teria over  the  front  step.  She  was 
completely  happy. 

Sunday  morning  found  them 
tired,  stiff,  and  barely  able  to  pull 
themselves  to  church.  They  came 
home  and  nibbled  on  cold  cuts  from 
the  refrigerator,  and  Bill  reminded 
Sally,  ''Be  sure  to  call  the  electric 
company  tomorrow,  so  they  can 
send  a  man  out  to  connect  up  the 

Monday  morning  Sally  waved  her 
husband  off  to  work,  shooed  the 
children  out  to  play,  and  then  sat 
down  on  a  box  of  books,  wonder- 
ing where,  in  the  littered  living 
room,  to  begin  putting  things  away. 
The  enormity  of  the  task  depressed 
her,  and  she  was  tired.  The  Home 
Lovely  magazine  lay  on  top  of  a 
barrel  of  dishes,  and  Sally  picked 
it  up. 

She  was  intently  comparing  color 
schemes  in  the  magazine  when  she 
was  shocked  to  attention  by  a  ser- 
ies of  screams  that  could  come  from 
no  one  but  Ann.  Sally  sprang  to 
the  door  and  saw  Karl  dragging 
Ann  about  the  yard.  Ropes  bound 
her  hands  and  feet. 

''Karl!  Stop  it!  What  are  you  do- 

"We're  Indians.  Fm  lasseling 

"Well,  don't  let  me  catch  you 

doing  it  again!"  She  rescued  her 
daughter,  untied  the  cords,  and 
started  back  toward  the  house.  She 
noticed  a  lot  of  scraggly  weeds  along 
the  brick  walk,  and  stooped  to  pull 
one  or  two.  An  hour  later  she  was 
still  at  it.  She  paused  long  enough 
to  make  the  children  sandwiches 
for  lunch,  and  found,  upon  enter- 
ing the  kitchen,  that  Ann  had  tried 
to  help  herself  to  milk  from  the  re- 
frigerator and  had  dropped  the 
whole  quart.  Sally  cleaned  up  the 
mess  and  cut  her  finger  deeply  on 
a  piece  of  glass. 

When  the  children  were  asleep, 
she  went  back  to  the  weeding.  As 
she  bent  and  pulled,  she  was  grad- 
ually aware  of  a  noise— one  that  had 
been  going  on  for  some  time. 

CALLY  stood  up  suddenly,  realiz- 
ing it  was  the  sound  of  running 
water.  She  followed  it  to  its  source, 
and  stood  aghast.  One  of  the  chil- 
dren had  turned  on  the  hose  and 
left  it  running  full  blast  near  the 
half-open  basement  window.  Water 
was  pouring  into  the  dark  depths 

She  turned  off  the  water  and 
dashed  for  the  basement  door  to 
survey  the  damage.  It  was  worse 
than  she  had  imagined.  The  water 
pouring  in  from  outside  lay  two  in- 
ches deep  near  the  window,  and 
a  leaking  pipe  overhead  was  adding 
to  the  flood. 

Sally  ran  to  get  a  mop  and  a 
broom  to  stem  the  tide  before  it 
spread  to  their  trunks  of  precious 
things.  She  pulled  on  her  over- 
shoes and  waded  in,  sweeping  the 
water  before  her  to  the  door. 

Mop,  sweep,  mop,  sweep,  for  two 
hours  she  worked,  until  she  had 
swept  all  she  could  out  the  door, 



had  wrung  more  out  into  a  bucket, 
and  the  remainder  lay  in  damp  pud- 
dles on  the  floor. 

At  four-thirty  Bill  found  her 
flopped  in  exhaustion  on  the  couch. 
''Hey,  lazy  bones,"  and  he  shook 
her.    ''What's  for  supper?" 

"Supper!"  Sally  reared  up  and 
looked  at  him  with  horrified  eyes. 
"I  forgot  to  call  the  electrician  to 
hook  up  the  stove!" 

"Yeah?  Well,  what  have  we 
got?"  and  Bill  stalked  to  the  refrig- 
erator. "Wieners  and  cold  pota- 

It  was  too  much.  The  whole 
day  had  been  too  much.  She  began 
to  cry,  and  found  she  couldn't  stop. 
She  was  tired,  she  hurt,  and  noth- 
ing seemed  to  be  going  right. 
Through  her  tears  she  saw  Bill 
standing  over  her  with  that  "Now 
what  have  I  done?"  expression. 

Where  have  I  seen  that  look  be- 
fore? she  wondered,  and,  realizing 
where,  began  to  giggle,  her  sobs  of 
exhaustion  gradually  turning  to  an 
agony  of  laughter. 

Bill  grabbed  her  shoulders  and 
shook  her  hard.  "What's  the  mat- 
ter? Hey,  stop  it,  for  goodness 

''Oh,  Bill!"  And  she  went  off  in- 
to peals  of  laughter  again.  "I'm 
laughing  at  myself.  For  being  so 
stupid!  I  thought  just  moving 
would  change  everything.  I  expect- 
ed this  to  be  heaven— and  it's  not! 
The  lawn's  a  mess,  the  plumbing 
leaks— even  the  wisteria's  got  blight. 
And  I"— she  began  to  laugh  and 
sob  at  the  same  time,  "I'm  the  same 
inefficient,  forgetful  person  I've 
always  been.  Even  the  children  are 
as  naughty  as  ever.  Oh,  honey," 
she  put  an  arm  around  her  puzzled 
husband,  "starting  right  now,  I'm 
going  to  try  to  make  this  a  heaven 
for  you  and  the  children.  I'll  budget 
my  time,  and  write  down  notes, 
and  keep  track  of  things  .  .  .  ." 

Bill  was  thoughtfully  rubbing  her 
hand  between  his,  trying  to  think 
of  what  to  say.  "Maybe,"  he  said, 
"all  of  us  together  can  gain  heaven, 
a  step  at  a  time.  I  think  I'll  start 
right  now  by  mowing  the  lawn." 

Sally,  putting  away  books,  watched 
him  from  the  window,  and  out  of 
a  new  understanding  and  maturity 
(or  maybe  she  had  read  it  some- 
where) said,  "We  make  a  heaven 
for  ourselves  right  where  we  are— 
or  nowhere." 

1 1  Lormng   (^lones 

Evelyn  Fjeldsted 

Morning  glory  bells  are  ringing; 

The  wind  has  found  their  muted  chimes. 

Wings  of  butterflies  are  tipping 

In  their  silent,  aerial  climbs. 

High  above  a  plane  is  flying, 
With  sun-splashed  wings,  far  out  of  harm. 
The  might}'  engine,  lifting,  singing, 
Fills  the  sky  with  morning  charm. 

Butterfly  and  plane  creation. 
Each  to  its  own  destination! 

JLaunder  olhat  Vi/hite  Shirt    Ljourself 

Ruth  K.  Kent 

OEND  a  white  shirt  to  the  laundry  a  few  times,  and  you  v/ill  spend  enough  to  buy 
^  a  new  shirt.  It  is  easy  to  do  up  a  white  shirt  when  you  know  how.  This  is  the 
way  I  have  found  to  be  best  for  me. 

The  ironing  itself  is  not  so  much  the  problem  as  the  preparation  for  ironing.  First 
the  washing — scrub  the  collar  and  cuffs  with  soap  and  a  stiff  brush.  Wash  as  usual 
and  rinse  out  all  the  soap.  It  is  advisable  to  rinse  a  white  shirt  even  though  a  no-rinse 
detergent  has  been  used,  in  order  to  rid  it  of  any  grimy  water.  Hang  the  shirt  on  the 
line  by  the  back  shirttail,  being  sure  to  spread  it  wide.  Pull  the  collar,  cuffs,  and  but- 
ton hole  pleat  down  the  front  into  shape.  Hang  in  the  sun  to  dry,  if  possible,  or 
someplace  in  the  air,  where  the  shirt  will  dry  quickly.  If  it  must  be  dried  inside,  do 
not  crowd  it. 

Do  not  starch  the  shirt  until  it  is  dry.  To  starch,  use  one  tablespoon  of  a  good 
starch  to  one  cup  of  warm  water.  (Use  more  starch  if  the  shirt  is  to  be  stiffer,  but 
that  must  be  determined  by  experimenting).  Add  one  teaspoon  of  salt  to  the  starch 
and  stir  well.  Now  dip  the  collar  into  the  starch,  rub  it  in  well,  and  wring  out. 
Do  the  same  with  the  cuffs,  being  careful  not  to  get  the  starch  on  the  sleeves.  And 
for  an  especially  good  job,  gather  just  the  pleat  in  front  into  your  hand  and  dip  it 
into  the  starch  and  wring  out.     Now  sprinkle  the  whole   shirt  and   roll   tightly. 

Before  ironing,  make  these  important  preparations:  See  that  the  iron  is  clean. 
Wash  off  the  bottom,  and,  if  necessary,  scour  off  lightly  any  black  spots.  Place  a 
clean  dish  towel  or  part  of  an  old  sheet  over  the  ironing  board  cover.  Spread  news- 
papers on  the  floor  beneath  the  ironing  board.  And,  if  available,  put  a  piece  of  beeswax 
or  ironing  wax  beneath  the  ironing  board  cover  at  the  head  of  the  board.  Set  the 
iron  just  below  "cotton,"  or  approximately  350  degrees.  If  the  iron  is  too  hot,  it  will 
leave  scorch  marks  where  repeated  ironing  is  necessary. 

First  iron  the  under  side  of  the  collar,  pushing  in  from  the  corners  to  the  center. 
Iron  the  band  until  it  seems  dry.  Turn  over  and  do  the  outside  of  the  collar,  being 
careful  to  push  any  fullness  to  the  back  of  the  collar.  Now  move  the  collar  to  the 
far  edge  of  the  board  and  let  it  hang  over.  Iron  the  collar  band  on  the  edge  of  the 
board  until  it  seems  dry.  If  the  iron  pulls  hard,  rub  it  across  the  wax  placed  at  the 
head  of  the  board  and  it  will  glide  smoothly. 

Iron  the  cuffs  on  the  wrong  side  from  the  bottom  edge  toward  the  sleeve.  Push 
the  iron  up  into  the  sleeve  from  the  inside  of  the  cuff.  Now,  do  the  right  side  of  the 
cuff.  Flatten  the  sleeve  along  the  underarm  seam  and  iron  the  sleeve  flat  on  the 
board,  doing  the  side  with  the  placket  first.  Iron  out  all  the  wrinkles  carefully  where 
the  sleeve  joins  the  cuff  and  do  the  placket  neatly.  Turn  the  sleeve  over  and  do  the 
other  side.  If  the  sleeve  seems  to  pucker  at  the  underarm  seam,  pull  and  stretch  the 
seam  while  ironing. 

Fold  the  shirt  along  the  line  where  the  back  is  seamed  to  the  yoke.  Lay  the 
yoke  flat  on  the  board  and  iron  carefully. 

Iron  the  left  front  first,  starting  at  the  underarm  seam  and  working  towards  the 
buttons.  1  hen  do  the  back,  then  the  right  front.  Iron  the  pleat  on  the  right  front 
on  the  underside  first,  then  iron  dry  and  smooth  on  the  right  side.  This  is  one  of  the 
most  important  tilings  to  watch  when  ironing  a  white  shirt.  The  shirttail  ne^d  not 
be  done  so  carefully. 

Go  over  the  collar  and  cuffs  once  again.  Hang  the  shirt  on  a  hanger  to  dry.  And 
it  is  best  to  store  shirts  on  hangers  if  there  is  hanging  space  available. 

Page  310 


If  the  shirt  must  be  folded,  do  it  the  way  the  army  does.  Button  the  shirt  and 
place  it  on  a  large  flat  surface  (bed  or  table)  back  down.  Gently  fold  the  collar  down 
against  the  breast  of  the  shirt.  Fold  one  sleeve  straight  across  the  front,  the  other 
sleeve  over  the  first  one.  Lift  the  shirt  tail  and  fold  it  a  third  of  the  way  up.  Now 
lift  this  fold  and  place  it  even  with  the  top  of  the  shirt.  The  shirt  is  now  just  the 
right  size  to  lay  away  in  a  dresser  drawer  or  a  suitcase.  If  it  must  be  made  smaller, 
fold  it  in  three,  once  from  left  to  right,  then  the  other  side  over  this.  It  will  come 
out  unwrinkled  in  the  places  that  show  the  most. 

It  takes  a  little  practice  to  learn  how  to  launder  a  white  shirt,  but  it  pays  off 
in  savings,  and  in  a  man's  pride  when  someone  asks  him,  "Say,  who  does  your  shirts 
so  well?" 

tylnrnversara  oc 

nniversary  oouvenirs 

Mabel  Law  Atkinson 

'T^HIS  morning,  while  rummaging  through  my  spacious  treasure-chest  of  memory  to 
■^      find  the  gift  of  love  I  needed  in  my  longing  for  children's  laughter,  I  came  across 
a  box  carefully  wrapped  and  labeled,  "Anniversary  Gifts,   1934." 

Tears  flowed  freely  as  I  opened  each  parcel  wrapped  in  plain  brown  wrapping 
paper  and  saw  the  cherished  gifts  and  the  childish  writing  on  the  homemade,  flower- 
decorated  cards.  The  first  revealed  a  small  rag  dolly  fashioned  out  of  old  white  knitted 
underwear  by  the  untrained  hands  of  a  Httle  daughter  of  eight,  the  face  worked  in 
black  uneven  stitches,  the  body  stuflfed  with  bits  of  underwear  cut  fine  by  fingers  that 
yearned  to  do  artistic  work  like  her  twelve-year-old  sister.  Her  gift,  when  opened, 
proved  to  be  a  hanky  made  from  a  salt  sack,  hemmed  and  embroidered  by  small  hands 
which  at  that  tender  age  were  prophetic  of  her  later  skill. 

A  bitter-sweet  fragrance  escaped  as  I  began  unwrapping  the  next  gift,  a  "bookay 
of  buetiful  dandelines"  from  my  four-year-old  son  whose  note  had  been  written  by  his 
older  brother.  Again  I  saw  the  childish  beauty  of  this  curly-haired  "little  brother" 
gathering  the  flowers  for  me.    Again  I  heard  the  hlting  music  of  his  laughter. 

I  opened  the  last  parcel  with  the  hands  of  love  tightening  about  my  heart,  and 
pearls  of  tenderness  illumining  my  eyes,  for  the  lad  whose  gift  this  was,  is  with  us  no 
more.  Tied  to  the  handle  of  a  little  basket  made  of  burrs  and  filled  with  moss  and 
wild  violets,  was  a  note  in  a  loxed,  remembered  boyish  scrawl:  "I  have  no  muney,  but 
I  luv  you." 

Again  I  saw  this  lad  as  a  chubby  babe  of  two  sitting  in  the  dooryard  of  a  rented 

home,  sans  lawns  and  flowers,  pulling  bunch  after  bunch  of  the  first  tiny  redroots  of 

spring  and  laughing  for  very  joy  as  he  saw  the  pink  rootlets.  Seeing  me  watching,  he 
held  up  a  handful,  calling,  "See!  Pitty,  mama,  pitty!" 

He  loved  beauty  even  then  and  found  it  in  the  pink  of  the  roots  of  weeds.  I 
recalled  how,  as  he  grew  older,  he  was  always  bringing  me  starts  of  flowers  for  the  win- 
dow, and  later  on  for  a  garden  by  our  very  own  home.  With  gratitude  in  my  heart 
that  God  had  let  me  keep  him  until  he  was  mature,  I  offered  up  a  prayer  that  he  is 
finding  beauty  in  the  heavenly  gardens  as  he  walks  through  them  at  sunrise  as  he  loved 
to  do  here. 

What  wealth  was  mine  that  morning  as  each  shyly  gave  his  gift! 

Since  then  I  have  received  beautiful  and  costly  gifts,  but  none  have  given  me 
greater  joy  than  those  simple  offerings  of  love  on  that  anniversary  in  "our  poverty 
year"  when  there  were  no  nickels  to  spare. 

The  Right  Decision! 

Frances  C.  Yost 

MARGARET  Shelby  popped  ''Smells  good,"  John  sniffed, 
the  rolls  in  the  oxen,  then  "We're  famished,  aren't  we,  kids?" 
took  another  peek  at  the  din-  John  and  Margaret  let  the  chil- 
inc^-room  table.  It  was  beautiful  dren  supply  the  table  conversation, 
with  its  centerpiece  of  autumn  as-  for  their  day's  experiences  were  bub- 
ters.  Margaret's  best  silver  sparkled  bling  over.  After  the  meal  was  fin- 
on  the  alabaster  linen.  She  was  ished,  Margaret  saw  her  dinner  set, 
using  her  teakwood  dinner  set  this  linen,  and  silverware  put  in  their 
evening.  places,  then  she  joined  John  in  the 

'Tes,"     Margaret      said     aloud,  living  room, 
"everj'thing  is  just  beautiful.    Why,  'Tou're    a    heart-filling    armful," 

anyone  would   think   I   was  enter-  John  said,  laying  aside  his  paper  and 

taiiiing  the  Governor,  instead  of  my  pulling    Margaret    down     on     the 

family."     Someone  said  the  way  to  couch  beside  him.     ''Now  we  have 

a  man's  heart  is  through  his  stom-  a  minute  to  ourselves.  Marge,  I  have 

ach,  Margaret  thought.  With  things  something  mighty  important  to  dis- 

sort  of  special,  perhaps   John   will  cuss  with  you." 
break  down  and  tell  me  what's  been         Margaret  studied  his  face.  It  was 

bothering  him  lately.  almost  too  serious.     He  was  going 

Margaret  went  to  their  bedroom  to  tell  her  without  asking.  "Yes?" 

and    chose    a    brown    rayon    dress  she  questioned, 
splashed  with  a  daisy  design  because  "Hang  it.  Marge,  I  was  going  to 

John    liked    it.     Making    a    quick  tell  you  how  important  it  is  for  a 

change,  she  combed  her  hair  and  fellow  to  have  a  higher  education  in 

added    just    a    touch    of    makeup,  the  business  world  today.    I  had  so 

Then,  viewing  herself  in  the  mirror,  many  reasons,  but  I  might  as  well 

she  said  aloud:  "I  may  not  be  an  get  to  the  point  right  off.  I  want  to 

illustrator's   dream   of  young   Mrs.  get  a  leave  of  absence  from  the  of- 

America,  but   I  have  a  good  hus-  fice  and  work  for  my  degree." 
band,  and   I  hope  to  keep  him."  "Oh,  John!"  Margaret  gasped.  It 

Margaret's  chin  set  with  determina-  was  as  if  she  had  been  pricked  with 

tion.  a   red-hot   goad.      "I    thought   you 

As  she  waited  at  the  door  to  wel-  were  satisfied,  you've  worked  up." 
come  John,  Margaret  thought,  life         "It's  a  competitive  world.  A  fel- 

is  good,  I'm  blessed  with  a  perfect  low  needs  a  good  education  to  make 

husband,  if  tJiere  ever  was  one,  a  the  grade.    I  never  had  a  chance  be- 

handful  of  healthy  children,  a  good  fore,  but  now  we're  kind  of  ahead, 

home  we   can   call   our  own,   just  I  thought  .  .  .  ."  John  valued  her 

everything.    Except  that  something  common  sense;  even  more,  he  val- 

is  bothering  John,  and  I  mean  to  ued  her  happiness.     He  counseled 

find  out  exactly  what  it  is,  and  to-  with  her  for  both  reasons, 
night.  "CoUcge^''  Margaret  repeated  the 

Page  312 



word  which  cut  her  as  a  razor  blade 
—thin  and  deadly  sharp.  Her  sen- 
sible mind  weighed  the  problem  as 
she  saw  the  facts. 

Just  when  they  were  beginning  to 
be  able  to  have  a  few  of  the  nice 
things  of  life,  like  the  Tiltons  next 
door,  then,  suddenly,  to  be  asked 
to  run  a  home  without  a  steady  in- 
come, was  overwhelming!  Margaret 
saw  again  in  her  mind's  eye  their 
first  years  of  marriage,  the  skimping 
and  saving,  the  making  over  and 
making  do.  John  had  been  in  col- 
lege then.  Margaret  felt  a  shudder 
run  over  her,  remembering. 

Things  wouldn't  be  the  same 
with  John  a  college  man.  He  would 
have  to  have  quiet  to  study,  or  he 
might  be  away  at  the  library  or  at 
school  functions.  The  very  thought 
of  John  in  college  was  as  if  Mar- 
garet had  been  told  John  would 
suddenly  be  swept  from  the  earth. 
She  dared  not  speak  lest  she  scream 
out  in  protest. 

They  sat  in  silence  while  the 
precious  seconds  ebbed,  then  John 
reached  over  and  took  Margaret's 
chin  in  his  strong,  brown  palm.  A 
sudden  film  came  over  Margaret's 
eyes  as  he  peered  into  her  face. 

'1  know  it's  a  shock,  Margaret 
darhng."  His  dark  eyes  looked  at 
her,  but  seemed  to  see  into  some 
reality  beyond.  "I  can't  tackle  it 
without  your  help.  You  think  it 
over  for  a  dav  or  two.  Registration 
is  a  week  off.  I  know  you'll  make 
the  right  decision. 

*   *   *  * 

lyrARGARET  heard  John  playing 
with  the  children  in  the  back 
yard.  Her  own  heart  lay  buried 
deep  and  aching.  She  picked  up 
the  evening  edition  of  the  paper 
and    scanned    it,    but    the    words 

blurred  beyond  readability,  leaving 
the  entire  space  for  two  single 
words  which  seemed  to  stand  em- 
bossed in  black  type— John  .  .  .  col- 

Margaret  laid  aside  the  paper, 
walked  to  her  little  pearwood  desk 
and  opened  it.  She  took  clean 
writing  paper  and  pen.  There  was 
a  pigeonhole  full  of  letters  to  be  an- 
swered; this  evening  would  be  a 
good  time.  But  her  pen  trails  hesi- 
tated until  she  allowed  to  be  writ- 
ten the  words  which  kept  racing 
through  her  mind:  John  wants  to 
return  to  college.  Margaret  tore 
the  paper  into  pieces,  then  crump- 
led them  for  good  measure,  and 
dropped  them  into  the  wastebasket 
at  her  feet.  She  closed  the  desk 
and  walked  out  into  the  garden. 

Autumn  reigned  with  all  its  col- 
ors. A  firey  sugar  maple,  a  burning 
oak,  and  a  golden  poplar  mingled 
their  brilliant  leaves.  White-limbed 
birches  stood  like  nymphs  in  the 
shower  of  their  gold  hair.  The 
mountains  stood  clothed  in  red  and 
golds,  with  touches  of  bright  ever- 
green, but  Margaret  was  uncon- 
scious of  the  beauty  of  her  surround- 
ings. She  walked  as  if  in  a  daze  to 
the  aster  bed. 

Here  she  had  picked  large  gold 
and  purple  balls  to  adorn  her  table 
only  a  few  hours  before.  She 
plucked  the  head  from  one,  leaving 
the  long  stem  unclad  among  its 
friends.  Then  her  fingers  began 
pulling  the  petals  from  autumn's 
queen  of  flowers.  The  petals  fell 
one  by  one  on  the  grass  at  her  feet 
with  alternate  words— he  will,  he 
won't;  he  will,  he  won't. 

Margaret's  life  had  been  as  fresh 
and  full  as  the  asters  in  the  garden; 
now  her  life  had  suddenly  become 



as  crushed  and  bruised  as  the  flower 
in  her  fingers.  She  thrust  the  svm- 
bol  upon  the  ground.  Then,  push- 
ing the  tears  back,  she  entered  the 
rear  door  of  her  home. 

Margaret  could  hear  the  chil- 
dren's voices  above  the  rat-rat  of 
the  ping-pong  balls  in  the  base- 
ment. She  decided  to  take  a  brisk 
shower.  Then,  perhaps,  her  family 
wouldn't  notice  her  swollen  eyes. 
But  the  shower  was  not  refreshing 
as  she  had  hoped,  for  the  needles 
of  hot  water  kept  prickling  into  her 
flesh  as  if  tattooing  the  word  school. 

She  donned  a  robe  and  went  to 
their  room  to  put  on  something 
fresh.  As  she  entered  their  room,  she 
usually  took  renewed  pride  in  the 
chintz  curtains  and  the  spool  bed 
in  a  white  petticoat,  but  tonight 
she  noticed  none  of  this.  John  had 
crawled,  as  if  exhausted,  into  bed. 
Poor  dear,  Margaret  thought,  if  he 
goes  to  college,  he'll  never  know 
what  it  is  to  sleep  early  evenings. 

Somehow  Margaret  managed  to 
plow  through  the  evening  tasks  of 
undressing  the  little  children,  listen- 
ing to  their  prayers,  and  tucking 
them  in  for  their  dreams,  but  the 
feeling  of  brooding  menace  never 
left  her. 

It  was  past  her  usual  bedtime 
when  she  brushed  her  teeth,  jerked 
the  window  open,  and  crept  be- 
tween the  sheets.  Hours  later  she 
awakened  shaking.  She  rolled  her 
head  from  side  to  side,  but  her  body 
remained  rigid,  conscious  of  the 
sharp  pain  deep  inside.  Sleep  must 
have  taken  possession  of  Margaret 
again,  for  when  she  opened  her  eyes 
it  was  a  new  day.  But,  for  Mar- 
garet, it  lacked  the  usual  anticipa- 
tion which  a  new  day  brings. 

1UIGHT  followed  day  and  day 
night,  and  it  was  Wednesday 
afternoon.  Margaret  stood  gazing 
into  their  cold  unused  fireplace  as 
she  listened  to  the  petulant  drip  of 
an  autumn  rain  on  the  roof.  Her 
hands  were  clammy  as  she  churned 
inside.  The  hurt  bewilderment 
still  clouded  her  eyes.  The  very 
thought  of  years  ahead  with  John 
at  school  stretched  like  a  vast  gray 
ocean— monotonous,  endless  empti- 
ness. John  had  said  she  would 
make  the  right  decision.  Well,  she 
would,  all  right.  She  would  point 
out  how  the  hundreds  of  war  brides 
were  struggling  to  help  support  a 
tiny  brood  of  kiddies  while  their 
husbands  sat  in  classrooms.  She 
had  seen  too  many  young  wives 
with  their  angular  faces,  always 
looking  worn  and  sharply  tired  be- 
hind their  brave  front. 

Margaret's  plan  of  action  was 
clear  now.  John  had  said  to  think 
it  over  for  a  day  or  two.  She  had. 
Now,  the  moment  John  came  home, 
she  would  point  out  calmly  and 
clearly  without  any  tears  or  violence, 
the  wisdom  of  his  going  on  with 
his  job,  devoting  his  time  to  the 
children  and  herself.  Margaret  re- 
hearsed her  talk,  reassuring  herself 
before  she  tried  to  convince  John. 

Just  then  the  doorbell  rang.  Mar- 
garet crossed  the  room  to  answer 

"Why  Mrs.  Tilton!"  Margaret 
said,  her  voice  a  little  thick,  'Von't 
you  come  in?"  Margaret  had  been 
crying.  Her  last  glimpse  in  the  mir- 
ror had  assured  her  that  she  looked 
as  if  she  had  fallen  flat  on  her  face. 
Yet  she  desperately  hoped  her 
neighbor  wouldn't  notice. 

''I  just  dropped  over  to  say  good- 
bye.   We're  leaving  the  end  of  the 



week,"  Mrs.  Tilton  stated. 

''Leaving. '"  Margaret  echoed  her 

''Yes,  work  is  taking  Marvin  to 
Armorville,  so  we're  taking  just 
what  few  things  we  need."  Mrs.  Til- 
ton  spoke  with  no  outward  appear- 
ance of  regret. 

"But  your  lovely  home?"  Mar- 
garet questioned.  "How  can  you 
bear  to  leave  it?" 

"Well,  I  must  confess  I've  never 
become  married  to  any  one  house. 
Oh,  I  will  admit  it  isn't  all  sunshine 
and  roses  to  pick  up  and  leave,  but 
whatever  comes,  Marvin  and  I  will 
meet  it  side  by  side."  Mrs.  Tilton 
had  a  wide,  intelligent  brow,  and  a 
generous,  smiling  mouth,  things 
which  Margaret  had  never  noticed 

"You  seem  so  very  broad-minded, 
Mrs.  Tilton.  Why?  Have  you 
always  felt  like  this  ...  I  mean  .  .  . 
standing  by  your  husband  in  what- 
e\'er  he  wanted  to  do?"  Margaret 
finished  her  sentence  haltingly. 

"I  owe  my  viewpoint,  in  fact,  my 
happiness  in  life,  to  a  certain  pio- 
neer woman,"  Mrs.  Tilton  stated 
with  doting  inflection. 

"You  do?  May  I  ask  her  name?" 
Margaret  inquired,  making  an  over- 
ture of  hospitality. 

"Why,  yes,  she  was  Phoebe 
Woodruff.  A  century  ago  she  was 
a  young  wife  like  you,  Margaret." 

"Please  tell  me  about  her."  Mar- 
garet was  gently  being  drawn  from 
a  fog.  For  the  first  time  in  three 
days  she  forgot  herself.  Her  mind 
left  the  \'alley  of  dilemma  and  tra\ - 
eled  the  rugged  path  of  the  pio- 
neers .... 


RS.  Tilton's  soft  voice  seemed 
to  lead  the  way.  "As  I  remem- 

ber the  story,  the  Woodruff  couple 
was  making  their  way  to  Kirtland  to 
join  the  saints.  Traveling  wasn't 
streamlined,  as  it  is  today,  and  food 
was  scarce.  Hardships  for  Phoebe 
were  more  than  she  could  bear.  She 
passed  away." 

"Oh!  What  a  shame!"  Margaret 
interluded.  Forgetting  herself,  a 
bitter  pain  for  Phoebe  Woodruff 
rose  strong  and  sharp  in  Margaret's 

"Her  spirit  left  her  body,  for  she 
saw  her  body  lying  on  the  bed  and 
her  husband  and  friends  around 
her  weeping.  Then  two  personages 
came  for  her.  One  of  the  messen- 
gers informed  her  that  she  could 
have  her  choice,  she  could  go  to 
rest  in  the  spirit  world,  or  she  could 
have  the  privilege  of  returning  to 
her  tabernacle,  and  continuing  her 
labors  on  earth,  on  one  condi- 
tion .  .  .  ."    Mrs.  Tilton  paused. 

"What  condition?"  Margaret 
queried,  her  heart  taking  up  its 
slow,  wary  beat  again. 

"Why,  that  she  stand  by  her  hus- 
band and  pass  through  all  his  cares 
and  trials  and  tribulations  and  af- 
flictions of  life  unto  the  end. 
Phoebe  Woodruff  looked  at  her 
husband  and  child  and  said,  'Yes, 
I  will  do  it.'  " 

"She  did?"  Margaret  laid  the 
two  words  out  like  little  flatirons 
of  exactly  the  same  weight.  "She 
chose  the  hard  pioneer  life  just  to 
help  her  husband?  Death  would 
ha\e  been  sweet." 

"But  she  chose  to  be  on  the  side 
of  her  husband,  my  dear,"  Mrs.  Til- 
ton went  on  in  a  low  even  voice. 
"This  story,  and  a  true  one  it  is, 
has  remained  a  guiding  star  in  my 
life.  It  shows  the  place  a  wife  has 
in  hfe  as  a  helpmate,  the  pulhng  of 



a  load  together/'  Her  thin  hands 
rested  in  her  lap. 

'Together,"  Margaret  framed  the 
word  softly,  almost  re\erently. 

"Yes,  my  child.  God  knew  cross- 
ing life's  path  would  be  too  diffi- 
cult for  man  alone.  He  gave  him 
a  companion." 

It  was  then  the  t\\'o  women 
seemed  to  lay  words  aside  and 
choose  a  silence. 

At  length  Mrs.  Tilton  arose. 
''Well,  I  must  be  going."  Then, 
turning,  she  laid  her  hand  on  Mar- 
garet's shoulder.  ''I  hope  you  get 
to  feeling  better,  my  dear." 

Margaret  walked  to  the  door  with 
Mrs.  Tilton.  Outside  the  clouds 
had  broken.  The  sky  was  glorious 
and  bright.     It  was  as  if  bleak  Oc- 

tober had  moved  back  from  the 
world,  and  summer  had  come  to 
reign  supreme  again. 

It  was  tears  of  joy,  mingled  with 
relief,  which  rolled  down  Mar- 
garet's cheeks  when  the  door  was 
closed  after  her  visitor.  All  her 
pent-up  feelings  of  the  past  three 
days  left  her.  Margaret's  heart  was 
washed  clean,  and  filled  with  satis- 
faction and  sweet  contentment. 

She  walked  to  the  phone  and 
dialed  a  number,  then  waited. 
"That  you,  John?"  ....  No,  noth- 
ing's wrong  with  the  children  .... 
I'm  all  right,  too,  John.  I  feel 
wonderful!  ...  I  know  you're  busy, 
and  I  won't  keep  you,  ...  I  just 
wanted  to  tell  you,  John,  I've  made 
the  right  decision!" 




1 1  iother  JLi 


Hannah  C.  Ashhy 

How  silently  and  swiftly 
Time  has  sped  the  years; 
I  wear  a  white  carnation 
When  Mother's  Day  appears. 

And  in  the  great  celestial  plan 
Where  family  ties  still  hold, 
I  know  that  she  is  waiting  there- 
Her  lo\e  has  not  grown  cold. 

Yet  like  a  traveler  of  the  deep 
Who  sights  the  northern  star, 
My  mother's  love  still  lights  my  path 
Though  shining  from  afar. 

We  know  the  stars  that  shine  by  night 
Are  never  seen  by  day. 
We  walk  by  faith  and  not  by  sight; 
She  taught  me  how  to  pray. 

So  Snail  Vf/e  [Reap 

MaryhaJe  WooJsey 

As  surely  as  we  tend  the  splendid  fields 
Where  grow  our  winter  foods  and  next  year's  seed. 
We  cultivate  the  days  —  for  they  must  yield 
Life's  memories  on  which  old  age  will  feed. 

f>r>-^ ' 

0£/7a    tiLortensen — vi/otnan  of  f/Lany   aiobbies 

IT  would  be  difficult  for  "Aunt"  Sina  Mortensen  of  Mesa,  Arizona,  who  was  born 
January   19,   1868,  at  Pleasant  Grove,  Utah,  to  tell  which  of  her  hobbies  is  most 
important  in  her  life,  and  which  gives  her  the  most  pleasure. 

She  is  particularly  skilled  in  crocheting,  and  her  many  exquisite  designs  reveal  a 
keen  sense  of  artistry  and  color.  She  is  an  excellent  quilter,  her  nimble  fingers  always 
flying  on  Relief  Society  work  meeting  day. 

Her  Church  services  ha\c  included  many  years  as  a  teacher  in  Relief  Society  where 
she  has  served  in  varied  capacities,  becoming  a  member  when  she  was  fifteen  years  of 
age.  Now  a  member  of  the  Mesa  First  ward,  and  still  a  visiting  teacher,  she  brings 
joy  and  comfort  to  many  homes.  She  has  also  been  Religion  Class,  Sunday  School, 
and  Primary  teacher. 

L^ome   (gently,   Spring 

Chiistie  Lund  Coles 

Come  gently.  Spring, 
Upon  this  street, 
Where  youth  once  ran 
With  jet-swift  feet. 

Come  gently,  Spring, 
To  mark  the  years, 
Where  youth  once  shed 
Its  war-dark  tears. 

Come  swiftly,  Spring, 
Peace  thread  your  rain. 
For  youth  is  coming 
Home  again. 

Page  317 

The  Deeper  Melody 

Chapter  8— Conclusion 
Alice  Money  Bailey 

MARGARET  was  waiting  for 
Steve  on  the  steps  of  the 
nurse's  home.  He  rushed 
up  to  her,  gripped  her  elbows  in  his 
palms,  and  searched  her  face.  Her 
eyes  were  enormous  and  brilliant  in 
her  chilled  face.  She  looked  near 

''Steve!"  she  said  through  stiff 
lips.  ''Steve,  Fve  broken  my  en- 

Light  splintered  in  Steve's  brain, 
but  he  held  his  physical  reactions 
caJm.  He  put  her  wordlessly  into 
his  car  and  headed  for  the  moun- 

"Relax,"  he  told  her  quietly. 
''Don't  talk,  but  lean  your  head 
back  and  rest." 

She  leaned  her  head  against  the 
cushions  and  closed  her  eyes,  but 
her  set  features  told  Steve  she  was 
not  relaxing,  and  she  was  not  rest- 
ing. He  drove  on,  praying  silently 
for  the  right  words  to  say,  the  right 
things  to  do.  When  he  had  reached 
a  point  high  above  the  valley,  he 
turned  the  car  into  a  sideway  and 
switched  off  the  engine.  There  was 
no  sound  there  except  the  gentle 
sighing  of  the  pines,  and  no  light 
except  the  moon,  which  was  shin- 
ing full  and  bright. 

He  turned  to  Margaret. 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  he  com- 

"It  wasn't  just  one  thing,  Steve," 
she  said  without  moving  or  opening 
her  eyes.  "It  was  many  things— first 
the  way  I  felt  about  him,  and  the 
way  I  felt  about  you.  I  said  I  felt 
guilty  about  that,  but  I  thought  it 

Page  318 

would  come  after  we  were  married 
—the  right  feeling,  I  mean.  And 
then  you  said  admiration  was  not 

Her  incoherent  words  made  beau- 
tiful sense  to  Steve,  but  he  refrained 
from  pressing  the  questions  that 
rushed  in  upon  him.  "Go  on/'  he 

"It  was  finally  the  babies." 

"The  babies?"  queried  Steve. 

"Your  babies— Phyllis  and  Ilene. 
The  way  they  came  to  me  last  Sat- 
urday. We  quarreled  about  it,  and 
you  know,  Steve,  a  quarrel  is  some- 
times a  very  good  thing.  Truth 
comes  out  in  a  quarrel.  Rex  doesn't 
want  children.  He  said  he  was  nev- 
er going  to  have  any  children,  and 
I  could  jolly  well  make  up  my  mind 
to  that." 

"Could  a  man  really  mean  a  thing 
like  that?"  marvelled  Steve. 

"He  meant  it,  all  right.  He  said 
he  had  worked  hard  for  his  place 
in  his  profession,  and  no  encum- 
brance of  children  was  going  to 
change  his  course.  He  said  family 
responsibilities  had  wrecked  his  fa- 
ther's career,  forcing  him  into  choic- 
es he  did  not  want,  and  they  were 
not  going  to  wreck  his.  I  could 
never  change  his  ideas  on  that,  or, 
in  fact,  anything  else.  I  could  see 
very  clearly  what  my  life  would  be. 
I  would  cease  to  be  an  individual. 
I  could  not  even  be  a  woman." 

"Thank  fortune  you  saw  it  in 
time,  darling,"  Steve  commented. 

"Only,  Steve!  why  didn't  I  see  it 
before?     Why  did  I  have  to  wait 



until  everything  was  so  hopelessly 

"It  isn't  hopelessly  involved." 
'It  is!  It  is!  All  those  invitations 
sent  out,  all  those  gifts  that  have 
come— the  parties,  the  people,  and 
the  disgrace.  I  don't  mind  for  my- 
self, but  much  as  I  disagree  with 
Rex,  how  can  I  let  him  in  for  this? 
He  is  a  prominent  man,  and  there 
will  be  publicity  and  gossip.  Espe- 
cially when  it  was  all  my  fault.  He 
loathes  publicity,  and  gossip  might 
ruin  him  professionally." 

^^VOU  are  excited,  dear.  This 
thing  has  built  up  in  your 
mind.  His  friends  will  be  secretly 
relieved  at  not  having  so  much  to 
do,  the  gossips  will  be  delighted 
with  a  choice  tidbit  until  another 
one  comes  along,  and  what  they  say 
will  build  up  his  practice,  not  wreck 
it.  It  will  not  be  easy,  dearest,  but 
we'll  help  you— your  mother  and  I. 
Can  you  move  from  the  nurse's 
home  tonight?  I'll  put  you  in  a 
hotel  where  no  one  can  find  you, 
and  we'll  do  the  telephoning." 

She  shook  her  head.  ''No.  This 
is  my  music  and  I'll  have  to  face 
it,"  she  said,  and  Steve  had  to  be 

On  the  way  back  to  the  home 
Steve  longed  to  explore  what  she 
had  said  about  her  feelings  for  him, 
but  one  glance  at  her  face  warned 
him  she  had  taken  the  last  ounce 
of  emotion  she  could  tolerate  for 
one  day,  so  he  left  her,  full  of  wor- 
ry for  her,  full  of  misgivings,  at  the 
steps  where  he  had  picked  her  up. 

After  he  left  her,  however,  the 
worries  grew.  By  morning,  if  he 
knew  Dr.  Harmon,  or  any  man, 
Steve  reasoned,  the  fellow  would 
have  faced  all  these  consequences 

and  be  willing  to  concede  anything. 
He  would  be  on  the  telephone  or 
there  to  meet  her,  promising  her 
anything  her  heart  desired.  In  the 
face  of  all  that  was  built  up,  could 
she  withstand  the  man? 

He  went  directly  to  Mrs.  Grain, 
awakened  her,  and  told  her  what 
had  happened.  "Great  day!"  she  ex- 
claimed, but  sobered  on  the  next 
thought.  "It's  going  to  be  hard  for 
her,  Steve." 

"It  is,"  agreed  Steve  grimly,  "I 
still  think  the  hotel  is  a  good  idea. 
I'll  make  a  reservation  and  send  you 
there  with  your  things.  Get  her. 
Mother  Grain,  as  soon  as  you  can. 
Get  her  away  from  that  hospital 
and  handle  everything  from  the  ho- 
tel. For  her  sake,  and  for  mine, 
guard  her  from  that  oversized  sense 
of  duty." 

The  week  that  followed  was  the 
combined  nightmare  of  anxiety  and 
the  heaven  of  seeing  Margaret  when 
he  wished,  of  calling  her  several 
times  a  day,  of  taking  her  out  every 
night,  while  her  mother  sat  uncom- 
plainingly with  the  children  and 
aided  and  abetted  his  every  plan. 

He  availed  himself  of  all  the  mes- 
sengers—flowers, books,  and  candy 
—that  he  had  longed  to  use  before, 
but  in  all  that  week  he  mentioned 
no  word  of  his  own  love  for  her. 
It  was  more  than  concern  for  her; 
it  was  a  point  of  pride.  He  did  not 
want  the  company,  even  in  her 
thinking,  of  the  other  man.  He 
wanted  her  free  and  clear  of  Dr. 
Harmon  before  he  brought  his  own 
love  again  to  her  attention.  Rather, 
his  messages  were  of  gaiety,  even 

"This  is  the  night  watchman  mak- 
ing his  rounds,"  he  would  report. 



''Steve,  you're  insane,"  she  would 
say,  but  her  laughter  was  music  to 
his  cars. 

OE  took  her  to  movies,  quietly 
watching  her  face  instead  of  the 
screen,  to  theatres,  to  dine  and 
dance,  and  to  the  symphony  to  hear 
Jascha  Ileifctz.  On  the  day  she 
was  to  have  been  married  he  ap- 
peared at  her  hotel  early  in  the 
morning  and  telephoned  from  the 

"I'll  give  you  and  your  mother 
ten  minutes  to  dress,  my  lady.  The 
children  arc  out  in  the  car,  complete 
with  lunch  basket.  Today  we  are 
going  to  Cripple  Creek." 

''Steve,  I  can't,"  she  said  miser- 
ably. He  could  tell  she  had  been 

"I  won't  take  no  for  an  answer. 
Either  you  come  down,  or  I'll  come 

"Don't  you  dare.  I  look  a  fright. 
Steve,  you  slave  driver!" 

She  came,  though,  in  twenty-five 
minutes,  not  ten,  dressed  in  a  plaid 
skirt  and  a  white  blouse,  much 
bathed  as  to  eyes,  which  were  swol- 
len in  spite  of  it. 

Mrs.  Crain  flashed  Steve  a  secret 
look  of  misgiving  and  thanks.  Steve 
ignored  everything  and  loaded  them 
in  with  high  adventure. 

"Have  you  ever  been  to  Cripple 
Creek?"  he  asked  them,  and.  was 
glad  they  said  no,  because  he  felt 
he  could  rely  on  the  magnificent 
Corley  Mountain  Highway  to  inter- 
est them. 

Up  and  up  they  went,  the  road 
doubling  back  on  itself  in  its  sheer 
climb  into  grandeur.  Steve  was 
gratified  to  see  color  creep  into 
Margaret's  cheeks,  excitement  into 
her  eyes,  as  she  caught  her  breath 

in  the  dark  beauty  of  aspens  and 
pines,  of  lakes  mirrored  far  below, 
of  vista  on  vista  unrolled,  of  soli- 
tude and  loveliness.  This  was  a 
veritable  paradise  of  crag  and  for- 
est, of  glass-cloar  creeks  and  thun- 
dering cataracts.  Steve  had  traveled 
it  many  times,  but  its  beauty  never 
failed  to  smite  him  anew.  He  felt 
a  personal  pride  in  showing  it  to 
Margaret  and  her  mother.  Even 
the  little  children  watched  the  trees 
flash  by  in  silent  wonder. 

npHEY  ate  in  a  meadow  two  miles 
from  Cripple  Creek,  beside  a 
spring  that  bubbled  out  from  be- 
tween two  rocks.  A  weather- 
browned  log  house,  abandoned,  sans 
doors  and  windows,  stood  at  the 
edge  of  the  forest.  Margaret  loved 

"Oh,  Steve!  Look  at  it,"  she 
cried.  "I  want  that  sweet  little 
house.  This  is  a  paradise.  Wouldn't 
it  be  fun  to  live  here?" 

"It  would,  indeed,"  agreed  Steve, 
deciding  then  and  there  to  investi- 
gate the  possibility  of  buying  it  for 
a  vacation  home.  One  could  have 
horses  and  pasture  them  in  the  lush 
meadow  for  long  trips  in  the  sur- 
rounding mountains.  It  ought  not 
to  cost  a  great  deal.  "I  have  never 
passed  this  spot  without  thinking 
the  same  thing!" 

"It's  like  a  chapter  from  a  Forty- 
niner  tale,"  she  said  of  Cripple 
Creek.     "Steve,  I  can't  believe  it!" 

It  was  picturesque,  the  old, 
shacky  buildings  mingled  with  the 
new  of  modern  machinery,  the 
steep  streets,  and  the  little  church 
with  the  old-fashioned  steeple  just 
beyond  the  modern  school  and  li- 

As  if  to  confirm  Margaret's  ob- 



servation,  a  burro,  long-eared  and 
slightly  larger  than  a  big  dog, 
ambled  out  into  the  street  and 
stopped  in  front  of  Steve's  car.  He 
applied  the  brakes  and  was  able  to 
halt  short  of  hitting  it,  and  they 
waited  while  its  small  Mexican  mas- 
ter, with  high  excitement,  wildly 
expressive  eyes,  and  vivid  Latin  in- 
vective, tried  to  pull  the  stubborn 
little  animal  off  the  street.  It  pulled 
back  on  the  frayed  rope  around  its 
neck,  and  sat  upon  its  haunches. 

The  children  shouted,  Phyllis 
cried  with  fright,  and  Margaret  and 
her  mother  laughed  until  they  were 
weak.  Several  of  the  lad's  friends 
came  running;  Steve  got  out  of  the 
car,  and  with  concerted  effort  they 
pulled  and  pushed  the  determined 
little  beast  from  in  front  of  the  car. 

Yes,  it  was  a  day  to  remember, 
and  it  accomplished  its  purpose. 
The  women  were  relaxed  on  the 
way  home  and  the  children  slept. 
Steve  delivered  Margaret  and  her 
mother  back  at  the  hotel  weary  to 
the  bone,  which  was,  this  time,  ex- 
actly as  he  wanted  it. 

"She'll  sleep  tonight,"  prophesied 
Mrs.  Grain.  ''She  hasn't  slept  all 
week  for  thinking,  and  Dr.  Harmon 
has  pestered  her  every  minute  you 

"She's  had  quite  a  week  then,  be- 
tween us,"  said  Steve  contritely. 

-M-EVERTHELESS,  sharing  Crip- 
ple Creek  and  the  Corley  Moun- 
tain Highway  was  solid  and  good 
within  him,  and  only  a  sample  of 
all  the  things  he  wanted  to  show 
her.  He  mentioned  it  to  }.  T.  the 
next  day. 

"You  took  your  best  girl  to  Crip- 
ple Creek  yesterday?"  repeated  J.  T., 
swinging   around   to    stare   at   him 

suspiciously.  "Steve,  are  you  still 
letting  that  secretary  lead  you 
around  by  the  nose?" 

"You  jump  at  conclusions,  J.  T.," 
complained  Steve.  "You  remember 
the  nurse  I  told  you  about?" 

A  broad  grin  spread  over  J.  T.'s 
face.  "You  cut  out  her  beau!"  he 

"He  cut  himself  out,"  Steve  tem- 
porized. "She  gave  his  ring  back 
last  week." 

"You  don't  say!"  remarked  J.  T. 
happily.  "Have  you  popped  the 
question  yet?" 

"You're  too  inquisitive,"  accused 
Steve,  but  went  on,  "I  did  that  the 
day  Sam  was  hurt.  She  turned  me 

"Hm-m,"  said  J.  T.,  wrinkhng  his 
brow  in  thought.  "Steve,  a  man  in 
your  position  should  buy  a  home." 

"I'm  going  to,"  said  Steve.  "I've 
been  looking  for  just  the  right  thing. 
The  place  I'm  in  isn't  .  .  .  ." 

"I  know  just  the  right  place  for 
you,"  J.  T.  cut  in.  "A  friend  of 
mine  built  it  a  year  ago.  In  fact, 
it  isn't  finished,  and  it's  a  bargain 
for  twenty-three  thousand." 

"Twenty-three  thousand!"  ex- 
claimed Steve.  "What're  you  try- 
ing to  do,  J.  T.,  line  your  friend's 
pockets  at  my  expense?  Where 
would  I  get  that  kind  of  money— or 
even  a  down  payment?" 

"You've  got  to  learn  to  think  in 
bigger  terms,  boy,"  said  J.  T.  "As 
for  the  down  payment,  I've  never 
given  you  the  bonus  on  that  Kettle 
Creek  deal,  and  you've  got  it  com- 
ing. You  go  see  that  house— and 
take  the  girl  along  with  you." 

He  told  Margaret  nothing  ex- 
cept that  he  had  a  surprise  for  her. 
She  looked  uncommonly  well  and 



rested.  Steve  could  hardly  drive  for 
looking  at  her.  Her  eyes  were  hap- 
py and  her  mouth  at  peace.  Steve 
put  his  hand  over  hers  which  was 
lying  in  the  seat  between  them.  She 
jumped  visibly  and  flushed  with 
pleasure.  "Are  you  as  happy  as  you 
look  today?" 

lyiARGARET  sighed.  'Terhaps  I 
should  tell  you  that  Rex  left  this 
morning  for  Boston.  He  had  an  of- 
fer there  he  has  wanted  to  take.  Dr. 
Hanson  wanted  him  in  with  him 
here.  In  fact,  he  was  using  the  loan 
of  his  home  as  a  little  pressure  point 
to  swing  Rex  his  way— letting  us 
get  married  from  there.'' 

''It  is  all  finished,  then?  Are  you 

''Sorry?    No,  Steve.    No!" 

It  was  Steve's  turn  to  sigh,  with 
huge  relief. 

Margaret  looked  at  him  sharply. 
"It  strikes  me,  Steve,  that,  in  my 
selfishness  this  past  week— and  be- 
fore, I  have  given  you  a  bad  time." 

"That  you  have,  milady,"  agreed 
Steve  lightly,  "but  you've